The REAL Death of a King: An alternate ending to the Inheritance Cycle
by NewSol
Summary: If you believed that Eragon and Galbatorix deserved an epic final battle instead of death by remorse, and Arya and Eragon should have had their epic romance, then join me in a re-telling of this final struggle of good verse evil, along with my interpretation of how the events in Alagaesia actually turned out.
1. Surprise

**Disclaimer:** Of course I am not Christopher Paolini and I do not own the rights to the Inheritance Cycle. This is simply my interpretation of the events at the end of Inheritance

**A/N: **Okay so this is my first attempt at some serious writing so bear with me as I get the hang of all this. I took me forever just to figure out how to make this horizontal line appear :) Anyway, first chapter is up and running. Let me know what you think.

* * *

Chapter 1: Surprise

Murtagh was hunched over on one knee, blood seeping through the hand over his stomach.

"Why couldn't you just let me win?" he whispered while looking at the ground.

Eragon stood, Murtagh's blood still fresh on his sword, noticing something different in his half brother's voice. Underneath his normal steely tone, he detected a touch of sadness. He watched curiously as Murtagh raised his eyes up and over to Nasuada chained up against the wall. Eragon looked over to Nasuada as well then back to Murtagh seeing the defeated look in his eyes. The realization of what he was seeing slowly dawned on him. Murtagh fought in their duel harder than he had ever fought against Eragon. He was fighting to win their bout at all costs, thinking that he would be rewarded with being able to release Nasuada from her steel chains.

"You care for her, don't you?" Eragon asked.

Murtagh looked at him straight in the eye for a moment, then dropped his gaze downward and nodded. Eragon felt sorry for his half brother, but there was nothing he could do. Eragon could never help him seeing that they would always be on opposite sides as long as he served Galbatorix. Murtagh had sworn loyalty to the king in the binding tongue of the ancient language and nothing could change that vow, nothing unless…

A new thought occurred to Eragon. One that brought a slight ray of hope to their dark situation.

Eragon leaned over to his brother and whispered, "Murtagh, were you able to change your- ?"

"Eragon! Murtagh!" interrupted the mad king, "Stop talking and come over to me so that I may heal your wounds and we can finish the business at hand."

Murtagh slowly got up, looked Eragon in the eye and said under his breath, "Get ready, brother."

Eragon wasn't exactly sure what he had planned, but he knew if there was any chance that Murtagh was able to change his true name, the name that bound him to Galbatorix in eternal servitude, than he may not be bound to his oath any more. He may actually be able to fight against the king at Eragon's side as they had so long ago. Very few things could allow someone to change their true name, however allowing yourself to love for the first time could be one of them. He relayed his thoughts to Saphira, Arya, and the Eldunari

"At last we finally know," said Galbatorix as they neared his throne, "Eragon is the better fighter out of you two. Well done." The king lifted his arm towards the pair and said something under his breath. Immediately Eragon felt a tingling sensation as his cuts and bruises mended themselves. He glanced at Murtagh and saw him stand up straight and take his hand off his stomach, blood no longer seeping through his clothes.

"Now that that's settled it's time to pledge yourself to me Eragon, and with you, so will the rest of Alagaesia," said the king with a smug smile.

Eragon was about to say something in return when Murtagh stepped forward and spoke the Name of Names. As soon as Murtagh had finished saying it, Eragon forgot it, and for a moment he wasn't even sure that Murtagh said it correctly. However, one look up at Galbatorix and he knew instantly that it was right. For a split second there was a mixture of shock and fear on the king's face, then just as quickly it turned to pure rage. An evil snarl formed on his face, and Eragon could see his lips starting to form the first parts of a spell. He never got the chance to finish.

Murtagh had already started lifting his hand toward Galbatorix and Eragon followed his lead. This was it, thought Eragon, the only way to get to the king. The element of surprise. Eragon reached deep into his mind, farther then he had ever before. He worked on gathering as much energy as he could and kept on pushing further, reaching for more. He could feel Saphira, Arya, and the Eldunari sending him their stores of energy as well.

Eragon had reached into the far depths of his mind, searching for all the stores of energy he could possess when he sensed… something. It was far out of his reach, like seeing mountains from a distance, yet it was there. That fact was unmistakable. It felt as though there was an immense void between him and the presence, but he couldn't help but feel a certain pull towards it, as if it were drawing him to itself.

Eragon focused on it for a moment longer and then snapped his attention back to gathering the remaining energy. Once Eragon had massed as much as he could he brought himself out of his head and back to his body. As the world seemed to slow to a crawl, he looked up at the king, red faced and furious, trying to finish his spell, then over to Murtagh, and he at him. Then, as if they had planned it, they both yelled out a spell. Eragon put all of the energy he gathered into the spell, along with Saphira, Arya, and all the Eldunari. Eragon and Murtagh released their spells simultaneously sending two glowing jets of energy, one blue, the other red, racing from their open palms towards the king's chest. Eragon saw Galbatorix's eyes grow large with shock just as the force of the impact knocked him off his feet and threw him backwards into his oak throne. He broke through the backrest sending splinters exploding everywhere and continued on until he crashed into the far wall. Cracks raced outward from his impact and pieces of stone fell to the ground along with his motionless body.

Eragon was shocked. He just stared at the mass of debris on the ground all around Glabatorix's body. One glance at Murtagh proved that he was not the only one having a hard time believing what he was seeing. Was the mad king really dead? Had they actually done it? In the back of his mind he had a small suspicion, but he allowed himself a slight glimmer of hope, that maybe, just maybe by catching the king off guard, they exposed his only weakness. The fact that even a king cannot plan for everything.

* * *

**A/N**

Elemental Dragon Slayer: I would really like to have some romance in this story and the pairs I would focus on would be Eragon/Arya, and Murtagh/Nasuada. However, when I wrote this fan fic I got as far as finishing the battle between Galbatorix and Eragon and then stopped. So I even though I haven't written anything else yet, there is still a possibility.

Restrained Freedom:That is a very good point and in this case you will have to give me some leeway. When I said I wrote this fan fic up until Galbatorix's death, I mean that I had the majority of the plot written and then I stopped and put it away. That was a year ago. Now that I am finally getting around to posting my story, all the revisions I make could conflict with the actual story since I haven't read it in a year and don't remember all the little details. Hopefully my slightly less than accurate version of Inheritance will still be entertaining to you.


	2. Taking Flight

**A/N**

Alright guys, next chapter is up. I appreciate all the reviews, love getting feed back. Keep em coming!

* * *

Chapter 2: Taking Flight

For a moment, it was perfect. The air was filled with dust and smelled of smoke. The oak throne was hardly recognizable, and the stone wall had cracks running outward like a spider web. And to top it off, Galbatorix's body lay motionless on the floor among the debris. Indeed, it was a perfect moment, if only just a moment.

Seeming to come from the heavens themselves, Shruikan's roar nearly knocked Eragon over. A not so subtle reminder that this day was far from over. It was an earth shaking roar full of bottled up rage and hatred. He leaped out in front of the broken throne and started for Eragon and Murtagh with a fierce look in his eyes and smoke falling from his mouth.

Before he got half way to them Saphira and Thorn jumped in front of their riders, blocking his way. The two dragons in front of him let out roars of their own, each as ferocious as the black dragon's. The sudden change in events made Shruikan hesitate and the two dragons seized the opportunity and charged him. Shruikan reared up on his hind legs in anticpation of the attack, but the two smaller dragons crashed into him like freight trains knocking him over. The force of Shruikan being tackled to the ground sent tremors through the earth, rocking the entire throne room and making Eragon and the others loose their balance.

Shruikan yelled out in anger while thrashing, trying to free himself from the two dragons who worked furiously to subdue him. Shruikan struggled against their combined weight until finally he got his legs underneath him and lifted himself up faster then Eragon would have ever thought possible, throwing the red and blue dragons off of him. Saphira and Thorn got their feet under themselves quickly and crouched low ready to attack again. Shruikan looked from one dragon to the other growling in frustration. Eragon could not tell what the massive dragon was planning to do. Saphira and Thorn each took threatening step towards Shruikan, fire jumping out of their mouths. Shruikan took a step back, crouched low, and launched into the air.

Eragon was not sure where the giant dragon would go, since he was already almost as tall as the throne room itself. A second later he had his answer. Shruikan hit the roof of the throne room with such a force that he punched right through it and flew out into the open air, sending giant pieces of stone sailing to the ground behind him.

Eragon watched as a massive slab of the roof headed straight for Elva and Arya. Without time to articulate a spell, Eragon reached out with his arm and willed the world around him to change. It was an instantaneous spell meant to follow a single desire, his desire for Elva and Arya to be safe. Just as the stone was about to crush the girls, they were dragged backwards as if being yanked by invisible ropes. They came sliding towards Eragon until they were safely beside him just as the stone slab crashed into the floor and broke into thousands of pieces. The rest of the group seemed to be fine save for minor cuts and bruises from the shattering stones.

Before the dust could even settle, Thorn got low and lifted his wings high above him. Then with one powerful jump, lept high into the air while driving his wings down at the same time, propelling him though the gapping hole in the roof and after Shruikan. Saphira started to crouch too, when Arya ran towards her, scooped up the deathdart from the ground, and jumped onto to her back with impossible grace. Saphira then swung her wings down, shooting them both into the air after the other two dragons.

"Quick, grab Nasuada and lets get out there to help them!" Eragon shouted. Murtagh was already ahead of him, running over to where Nasuada was chained up, while Eragon grabbed Elva.

"How do we get out of here?" Eragon asked.

"There's a door on the far side that leads outside, there aren't any traps to worry about and it opens into the courtyard that's behind this building," Murtagh said.

Eragon put Elva on his back and ran towards the far side of the throne room that Murtagh had just described, while Murtagh cut Nasuada loose from her chains, picked her up in his arms, and started running too. They had just reached the door when they heard a roar from the dragons while at the same time pain shot through Eragon's arm and Murtagh clutched his ribs. They both looked at each other, each knowing that the pain they felt was from their dragons.

"We need to hurry," said Murtagh grimly and went through the door. Eragon was about to follow but couldn't help himself from taking one last look back. His eyes fell on the king, the all-powerful Galbatorix, lying in a heap of ruble. He new he was far away but from where he was it looked as if the king's fingers moved. He stared for a moment longer, but with nothing more to see Eragon wrote it off as the side effects of a mind on overdrive. He turned and followed Murtagh through the door.

Once out they sprinted as fast as they could through the courtyard. They covered the large distance in a matter of seconds, and made it through the far gate, which now hung on its hinges. From there they worked their way to the streets that surrounded the castle. The whole time, the roars from the three dragons in the sky above them filled the air. Once they turned a corner, they finally came in sight of some stunned Varden soldiers. Eragon put Elva on the ground and helped Nasuada off Murtagh.

"Lady Nasuada!" said one of the soldiers in disbelief.

"Gather everyone you can to protect these two and find a healer for Nasuada. She's extremely weak," said Eragon.

"Yes sir!" they said in unison, and two of the men took off.

Eragon took a step back and then looked around at the people throughout the streets. He saw that the battling dragons seemed to have captivated Empire soldiers and Varden alike. Nobody was fighting each other. Instead, everyone seemed hypnotized at the vicious battle going on above them. Eragon sensed that they all knew the fate of the entire war rested on this single battle.

Back up in the sky, Eragon saw Saphira with Arya on her back swerve to the side just as Shruikan loosed a jet of fire at her, while at the same moment Thorn started into a dive from above the great black dragon. It looked like Thorn was going to crash into an unsuspecting Shruikan, but at the last minute Shruikan flapped his gigantic wings in front of him, backing him far enough up to make Thorn miss his target. As Thorn flew by, Shruikan hit Thorn with his enormous black wing, sending him speeding towards the ground. Thorn flapped furiously to stop from crashing and managed to land without hurting himself.

While Thorn was falling, Saphira and Arya flew at the black dragon in hopes of catching him unawares while he was focused on Thorn. It almost worked. They got close to the great dragon but he turned and noticed them before they could do anything. Shruikan let out a roar and brought his foreleg crashing down towards the pair coming at him. Just before they were slashed, Arya lifted the deathdart up at the incoming claws. Shruikan's paw slamed right onto the spear and he roared in agony as it sunk into his flesh. He immediately pulled away and Arya had to hang on with all her strength to keep from losing the spear. Once his paw was free, Shruikan flapped heatedly to get away from the pair who had just wounded him.

Eragon dropped his gaze from the hurt dragon and saw Thorn had gathered himself and was starting to gain altitude to get back in the fight. Eragon knew it was wrong to do what he was about to do but he had no time to ask Murtagh for permission. They needed to get in this fight and fast.

_Thorn! Come over here and pick us up!_ Eragon shouted with his mind. The force of his mental shout knocked Thorn off balance for a second but he fixed himself and turned toward where Eragon and Murtagh were standing and started flying over. Eragon looked at Murtagh to apologize for contacting his dragon without permission, but Murtagh just shrugged and said, "You beat me to it."

Eragon looked at his surroundings and saw that it was too crammed for a dragon to land, and he and Murtagh needed to get up in the air fast. He then noticed a low rising house to their right and a flatter building connected to it. The sight reminded Eragon of giant steps.

"Let's get onto that building to make it easier for Thorn," Eragon said. Murtagh nodded his approval and Eragon turned to run towards the house when Murtagh grabbed his arm.

"Eragon, wait."

"We need to hurry Murtagh, what is it?" said Eragon.

Murtagh looked him in the eye and said the name of the ancient language. Just like before, once Eragon finished hearing the word he forgot it. Then Murtagh said a few more words and then said to Eragon, "Okay, I removed the spell that prevents you from remembering the name of names. At least this way Galbatorix can't use that cheap trick to stop us. You should be able to remember it now." Murtagh said the word a second time and this time it stuck in Eragon's head with a resounding boom. It was a single word that carried more power within it then anything else known to Eragon. He involuntarily shivered throughout his whole body from its strength and power.

"That's incredible," Eragon said.

Murtagh agreed and the two of them turned and sprinted towards the house. Just as they neared it, they both leaped up and sailed through the air. They landed on top the roof and continued on without breaking stride. They covered the length of the roof quickly, running across the shingles without missing a step. As they came upon the second building they both jumped up with their full strength, flying through the air towards the roof of the building. Their heightened speed and agility allowed them to jump higher then any human. They landed on the roof in a crouched position and got up just as the air around them reverberated with the blasts from Thorn's wings.

Before Thorn even landed on the roof, Eragon and Murtagh were already running towards him. As he touched down, Murtagh jumped into the saddle first followed by Eragon. Thorn then brought his wings down and launched them into the air towards the on going battle.

Once they were headed back towards the fight, Murtagh turned his head and asked, "So, do you really think we killed him?"

"I don't know. I never thought that he could be taken out like that, but we did catch him by surprise and it was one powerful attack," said Eragon.

"Yeah, no normal person could survive a hit like that. But then again, old Galby isn't exactly normal."

"Well, if he is just knocked out for the time being, then we need to hurry up and take out Shruikan because I do not want to face them together."

"I agree," said Murtagh.

Eragon was quite for a moment and then asked a question he was already sure he new the answer to. "You were able to change your true name weren't you? That's how you were able to help me back there."

Murtagh didn't respond immediately. Eragon noticed him take a deep breath and then he turned back to look at him.

"It was all because of her. There was just something about her, I couldn't stand to see her get hurt. As the weeks went by I found myself always thinking about protecting her, trying to think of ways to free her, and gradually thinking of hurting Galbatorix. When that started to happen I knew I was changing. You have to understand, when you're pledged to him its not just a vow, it's a binding of your entire being. Even thoughts aimed against the king seem to disappear before you can finish thinking them. The idea of doing anything wrong to the king doesn't exist. It is complete servitude. So when I was able to start thinking of ways to get revenge for what Galbatorix has done to her, I realized that I am not the same person that he bound to his side all those months ago. My true name had changed. After that I waited for my first opportunity to strike back," said Murtagh.

Eragon smiled and said, "Well I'm glad you're back on our side. The whole thing with you fighting for Galbatorix and me fighting for the Varden would have just made for awkward situations. Think about how weird family dinners would be."

"Yes, that would have been very awkward," Murtagh said laughing. It was the first time Eragon heard Murtagh laugh since their days traveling Alagaesia together. It gave him hope that even in the darkest times, all is not lost.


	3. Get Ready

**A/N **

The Lobster Claw: I do agree that Paolini made Shruikan a bit one dimensional but sadly this is a war. Everyone doesn't get a happy ending.

Yes, as some of you have noticed I have repeatedly used the word "deathdart" instead of "dauthdert." When I orginially typed up this story it was faster to type deathdart, plus I thought it sounded pretty cool :) So yes, in my version of the story the green spear is known as the deathdart.

I hope you enjoy this chapter, in my opinion it is more of a transitional chapter but I still think its good. As always, I welcome your reviews. Enjoy!

* * *

Up ahead Eragon could see Saphira with Arya on her back, flying in and out at Shruikan, keeping him at bay and never staying still long enough to let Shruikan land a hit. As they neared the aerial battle, Saphira swooped in on Shruikan's left side looking to catch his exposed flank. The black dragon twisted his enormous body around and attempted to strike Saphira with his tail. Saphira quickly tried to change directions to avoid being hit, but she was too close and the giant black dragon too fast. Saphira looked the other way, and Eragon saw his dragon brace herself in preparation for being hit. The impact never came.

The drain of energy Eragon felt was more then he had anticipated. Even with the help of the Eldunari he still felt noticeably weaker. The strength it took to hold back Shruikan's giant tail was immense. He only held it back long enough for Saphira to fly by, but it was long enough to drain a substantial amount energy from him. But it no longer mattered, Saphira and Arya were unharmed and Shruikan was knocked off balance from having his tail stopped mid swing.

_Saphira, come fly under us!_ Eragon shouted to her with his mind. Murtagh looked back and gave Eragon a quizzical look. Eragon just shrugged and smiled.

Saphira looked at them approaching and then turned back to Shruikan who was trying to gain the altitude he had lost from losing his balance in the air. She made a dive at the black dragon, and then dodged to the side just as he lashed out with his jaw. Shruikan barely missed her and it gave Saphira just enough time to put distance between them so she could head over to where Thorn was.

Once Thorn got near the other dragons he stopped and hovered as Saphira flew right for them from the side. Saphira got closer and then dropped in altitude a little bit so that she would fly right under Thorn, while at the same time Arya scooted back in the saddle. Eragon got up to his feet in a crouched position, clapped Murtagh on the shoulder and thanked Thorn for the lift.

"What if you miss?" asked Murtagh.

"I wont," said Eragon.

Saphira was heading towards Thorn's right side, and just as she passed under him, Eragon jumped off Thorn's left side.

The timing was perfect. He was in the air for a minute before he landed right in front of Arya in the saddle. He turned his head back and smiled at her, and she returned it in kind. She then wrapped her arm that was not carrying the deathdart around Eragon's chest and he felt himself temporarily get lost in her embrace. Then Saphira said, _We have been able to keep him busy, but we haven't caused much damage beside what Arya did to his front paw._

_Then I guess its time to fix that, _Eragon said.

Saphira roared in affirmation and spun around and started back towards Shruikan while Thorn and Murtagh did the same. Saphira headed towards Shruikan's left side while Thorn flew to the other. The black dragon kept switching his gaze from one dragon to the other, trying to decide what they were planning. Thorn was the first to make a move. He flew towards Shruikan with deadly speed, Murtagh on his shoulders with his sword high above his head. Shruikan turned his body to face the oncoming dragon and rider, and roared at the pair of them. Thorn was just within striking distance when he turned and darted to the side just as Shruikan swung his arm out to hit them. Instead, Shruikan missed Thorn and Murtagh caught the blow on his sword. The great black dragon hissed as the sword cut into flesh and before he could swipe at them again they were already flying out of harms way.

Saphira was gunning straight for Shruikan when he turned his head and saw them coming. Instead of readying himself for the attack, Shruikan lifted both of his giant wings high above his head and brought them down with such a great force that the air around them shook. He propelled himself straight up and out of Saphira's path. Thorn was already flying up towards the black dragon when Saphira turned around. Being smaller than Shruikan, both Saphira and Thorn were able to move much quicker than the black dragon and they caught up to him in no time. They began to take turns assaulting him from different sides, weaving in and out of his reach while attacking him like a swarm of angry wasps. They continued like that for a while, both dragons flying in and out of Shruikan's reach, trying to catch him off guard long enough to make a wound, or allow their riders to inflict damage, but flying away before he could retaliate.

After a while Eragon could sense the dragons growing tired with the relentless flying and dodging. An idea occurred to him that may allow them to land a more serious blow to the giant dragon. He extended his mind to Saphira and Arya and then to Murtagh, and told them his idea. They agreed with it and headed to Shruikan's flanks once again. Once both dragons were positioned on either side of Shruikan, they simultaneously flew at him from each side. Once they got close, Eragon, Arya, and Murtagh lifted their arms as one and released a spell at the dragon. It hit Shruikan from both flanks and he was instantly bound up in the air, unable to move as if invisible ropes had been wrapped all around him. Even though he couldn't move, Eragon could see the anger in the black dragon's eyes at being held frozen against his will. He knew the spell would not be able to last long because of the dragon's immense size along with the fact that they had to keep him suspended in the air, but it would allow the two smaller dragons to get close enough to attack without worrying of Shruikan slashing or biting them. It almost worked.

Just before the two dragons smashed into Shruikan, the spell that bound him was suddenly severed by a counter spell. Without hesitating, Shruikan flapped his his newly freed wings once, flipping himself upside down while tucking in his wings, and went diving to the ground. Saphira and Thorn had to swerve to avoid hitting each other in Shruikan's sudden absence. Shruikan was already far below them when he opened his massive wings and took off flying in a new direction. Eragon could not figure out why the dragon was running, unless it was to gain some space in order to make an attack of his own. He did not want to wait to find out so he urged Saphira after the fleeing dragon. With Thorn right behind them, they tucked into a dive and aimed straight for the dragon. Shruikan was flying fast, but the smaller dragons were gaining on him even faster.

"Why is he running away? We might have numbers but he is still strong and definitely not out of energy," Eragon said. With a sudden change of direction, Shruikan headed back towards the inner parts of the city. Eragon could see all the people that were down below. Everyone's eyes were looking up at the events taking place above their heads. It was an eerie sight to see so many people not moving, just staring. It was as if they had all been turned to stone and would forever more gaze out at the heavens.

"Maybe he is heading to an open area to fight on the ground. We wont be as maneuverable on land as we are in the air. He will have the advantage over us," said Murtagh.

"If so then why would he be flying to the inner part of the city where there are the most buildings? Beside the only thing in that direction is…"

The realization for Shruikan's behavior and why their spell was broken before they had a chance to attack hit Eragon like a sack of bricks. He was about to tell the others what he had just realized when the king's castle came into view and standing on top of the tallest dome structure that housed the throne room was a lone figure with torn clothes flapping in the wind. He had a powerful stance with arms folded and legs shoulder width apart. There was no mistaking it Galbatorix was alive and well.

As they got nearer, Eragon could see the look on his face. To his surprise it was one of amusement, as if Galbatorix was enjoying a game.

As Shruikan reached Galbatorix, Eragon saw him raise his right hand straight up in the air towards his dragon who lowered his right foreleg and grabbed the king's arm. Galbatorix was whisked off the roof of the castle in the massive dragon's grip. Shruikan then lifted his foreleg that was carrying the king and the king pulled himself up and into the saddle using just his upper body strength. It was frighteningly impressive to see Galbatorix pull a stunt like that right after being blown through a throne and into a wall. It reminded Eragon once again just how dangerous the king truly was.

The king and his dragon turned around and head back towards Eragon and the others who were hovering in the air. Once Galbatorix was within earshot, Shruikan stopped moving forward and hovered where he was, flapping just enough to keep him up. The king looked at both dragons and their respective riders and then a big smile cracked across his face. The site was unsettling.

"Well done! Well done indeed! You two have advanced much farther then I would have ever thought possible in the time that you have been riders. The riders of old would have never been able to summon a spell like that at your age even with the help of the eldunari," said the king. Eragon could not believe what he was hearing. Was the king actually praising them for knocking him out? "It seems I have been too negligent with my wards in recent years, but that was easily fixed. Make no mistake, I will not be caught off guard so easily again. Of course, the fact that you believed an attack like the one you made would have killed me is in a way, pathetic, but I do congratulate you on doing what no one has done in hundreds of years."

Eragon noticed that even though the king looked like he was beaten severely he still had that hypnotic sound to his voice. The rhythm and tone that made everything he said seem to be the most natural thing in the world. It made Eragon want to relax, let his guard down, and agree that they had accomplished something in striking Galbatorix. Then Saphira entered his mind and said, _Remember little one, his soothing voice is one of the reasons he is so dangerous. Remember why we are here, remember why we fight_. Eragon did remember, he remembered all the trials they had faced and the sacrifices they had made. He was not going to let his guard down and relax. No, he was ready.

"However, as unfortunate as it is for you, it does not change anything. By the end of this day, Eragon, you will swear your loyalty to me in the binding powers of the ancient language. Once you are under my control, everyone else will have no choice but to follow. Then, finally, we may have peace throughout Alagasia. That's all I have ever wanted. A path to end all this meaningless fighting throughout our land and bring in a new era of peace and prosperity. You are that path, Eragon. Can't you see that?"

Eragon wanted nothing more then to be able to agree with the Galbatorix. However, he new that under the king's rule there would never be peace no matter how good he made it sound.

"I will never swear my loyalty to you. You are just going to have to try and kill me instead," said Eragon. Galbatorix's smile broadened even more but at the same time his face took on an evil feature.

"Oh, I don't think it will come to that, youngling," said Galbatorix

Eragon adjusted his grip on Brisingr and then said to Saphira, _Are you ready?_

_Absolutely_, she responded.

It was her steely determination that gave him strength. He felt Arya's arm tighten around his mid section and could feel her breathing become purposefully calm. He could sense it from both of them. They knew what was about to happen and they were ready. Eragon looked over at Murtagh and caught his glance. They stared at each other for a moment, and then he nodded. The real battle was about to begin. The one that would decide the fate of Alagasia forever.

Eragon and Murtagh lifted up their swords and Arya raised the deathdart.

"Well then, shall we find out?" said Eragon back to Galbatorix. Saphira arched her neck and roared, loosing a jet of fire from her mouth. Thorn on her left side did the same. Then, with a single downward flap of their wings, Saphira and Thorn took off. Ahead of them Shruiken roared in anticipation.

* * *

**A/N**

The Lobster Claw: The idea that Shruikan's eldunari lives even if his body dies is not bad at all. Pretty interesting. However, aside from giving us an insight into who Shruikan is when not influenced by Galbatorix, I am having a hard time seeing what purpose it can serve the story. As for what I have written up till now (the final battle) it will serve no purpose. In the end it will be Eragon against Galbatorix, no help from anyone else, not even Saphira. Although, after the battle is done, if I continue writing and start wrapping up everyone's stories then maybe that idea could come into play. Ill have to think about it.

Hiker Writer: Thanks! I really appreciate the encouragement.

Restrained Freedom: Of course! Can't expect the might Galbatorix to bow out from a sucker punch.

Elemental Dragon Slayer: Thanks a lot! Hopefully round 2 will be even better for yall.


	4. Fatal Jump

A/N: I hate that it has taken this long to get my next chapter up. However, I tried to jam pack enough in here to make up for it. Let me know what yall think. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 4

The sun was high in the sky, beating down on all those underneath it. The wind rushed past Eragon's face as they flew, whisking away the sweat from his brow. Adrenaline was pumping in his ears, making the details around him became sharp and crystallized. He felt the steady thumps of Saphira's wings, purposeful and unyielding. He smiled inward, reminded of how much she thrived in the warm temperatures. Off to his left, Murtagh and Thorn were matching their progress stride for stride. His half brother, brought back from the deadly clutches of the king, looked as dangerous as Galbatorix himself as he rode astride his mighty dragon. With his crimson sword reflecting the sun so that it looked to be on fire and his face set in an iron focus, it was a threateningly impressive sight. Eragon was glad he was on his side. Wrapped around his waist was Arya's slender arm. Her firm grip was a physical reminder of her resolve, reminding Eragon that he was not alone in this fight. Up ahead were the dark dragon and the evil rider. Galbatorix and Shruikan seemed like something out of a bad dream. Galbatorix's dark, torn clothing made him look like a demon escaped from the depths of hell, and sitting on top of Shruikan with his massive black body added to the illusion.

Eragon shifted his stance on Saphira slightly, just enough to make sure his body was ready for the trials he was about to put it through. How could he ever be fully ready for this? He couldn't. A king who has only gotten stronger over the centuries, and a dragon bigger than both of theirs combined. Eragon knew no one could be ready to take them on. But maybe that was the point. Doing what needed to be done, no matter how bad it looked. Eragon settled into as good a spot as any. It really didn't matter. His thoughts drifted to those that he loved, some of them right there with him, others far off fighting their own battles. Then he looked back towards Galbatorix and saw him for what he truly was, the single reason all those he loved were fighting. He wasn't just fighting the king anymore. No, he was about to fight for all those he cared about. The odds didn't matter, just the cause. Yes, he was ready.

The two smaller dragons raced side by side until they were half way to Shruikan, at which point they each split apart and headed for his flanks. Saphira to the right and Thorn to the left. Eragon was keeping watch on the king's eyes. He was locked on Eragon, which gave him hope that he wouldn't be able to focus on Murtagh coming up on his other side. Saphira flew right up to Shruikan's side until she was about to run in to his flapping wings, then she banked hard. As they swerved, Eragon lunged out with his sword toward the dragon. He swung in a wide arc trying to cut into Shruikan's wing but Galbatorix deflected his sword with a spell. It didn't matter much because he gave Murtagh the opening he needed. His sword was a blur of fiery red as it slashed across and bit into Shruikan's wing tip. The massive dragon bellowed and tucked into a dive, only leveling out once he was away from the red and blue riders. Saphira and Thorn both tucked into dives and dropped towards Shruikan, trying to press the attack. As they reached him, Eragon could see Galbatorix healing Shruikan's damaged wing. He looked back towards the oncoming riders with malice in his eyes. He might have gone on the offensive right then and there, had Saphira and Thorn not attacked.

The dragons and their riders began to swoop in and attack Shruikan's sides, flying away before either Shruikan or Galbatorix could counter. Unfortunately, the king and his dragon learned from their previous mistake. Shruikan would focus on one dragon while Galbatorix focused on the other.

Eragon and Arya both lashed out with their weapons but Shruikan tucked and rolled, while at the same time Galbatorix parried a slash from Murtagh. Saphira brought Eragon and Arya around but this time Galbatorix was locked on them. Saphira tilted her wings and Arya stabbed outward with the deathdart. Galbatorix blocked it with a flick of his wrist and countered with a stab of his own. Eragon was ready. He swung Brisingr up and deflected the king's attack. Saphira banked to the side and away from Galbatorix just as they heard Thorn let loose an angry roar. Looking over his shoulder, Eragon saw scarlet blood trailing from a claw wound on Thorn's side. Murtagh already had his hand extended to the injury, mending it with his magic. It would have only taken a few minutes to finish, but Murtagh wasn't given the chance. Galbatorix went on the offensive. Eragon urged Saphira back to the fight, seeing the king's stark white sword lifting up high above his head. Murtagh was working to heal Thorn, but was also keeping tabs on the approaching king. Shruikan was nearly on top of them when he lashed out for a bite. Thorn spun on his side at the last minute, narrowly missing Shruikan's dagger like teeth. Before they could even come out of the dodge, Galbatorix swung out with his sword. A flash of white, a blur of red. Murtagh caught Galbatorix's attack. Eragon realized he was holding his breath as he watched the two riders. They were almost to them, but still too far away to help his half brother. With a quick twist, Galbatorix brought his sword around for another strike. Again, Murtagh flashed red and blocked the king's sword, but he barely made it. The king had already pulled back and around for a third blow. Murtagh wasn't moving fast enough, his sword wasn't going to block the king's. Instead, Saphira was the one to block it. In a quick fly by, she hit the king with her wing knocking him off balance, and then took off before he could even lift his sword up again. Eragon let out his breath as they began to come back around. The momentary distraction let Murtagh and Thorn fly away in a wide arc. Eragon saw the blood trail finally stop and heard Thorn release a deep growl full of revenge. The pair came out of the arc heading right back towards Galbatorix, while Saphira did the same.

The two dragons flew side by side again but as they got close to the king they split off, Saphira going low, and Thorn going high. Eragon could see Shruikan's massive black eye on him, and his razor sharp talons clenching, ready for an attack. Saphira dropped a few more feet in altitude and then aimed herself back up at Shruikan's underside. The black dragon lashed out with a fore claw, but Saphira was too agile. The dragon missed and Eragon caught the claw on his sword, steel biting into flesh. Arya followed suit, lifting the emerald deathdart as high as she could. The tip of the spear broke into Shruikan's underside, tearing at his gut. The great dragon shouted in pain and anger while swinging his tree trunk of a tail underneath him. Eragon saw it before Saphira; the massive tail would knock them out of the sky like a couple of flies.

_Saphira dive!_ Eragon shouted in his mind. She obeyed immediately, curling in her wings and falling out of the sky like a comet. Eragon's stomach rose up into his throat and he felt Arya's arm tighten around his waist. He spared one last glance up above him to see Shruikan spin around, knocked off balance from his miss.

Once Saphira leveled out and began her climb back to the fight, Eragon could hear the sounds of swords crashing into swords. He could see Murtagh flying in towards Galbatorix, exchange blows, and flying off again.

_Keep it up brother. Don't give him a chance to go on the offensive_, thought Eragon. The pair kept at it, only sustaining minor injuries as they flew off. Thorn was coming back around for another round when Galbatorix raised his arm towards them and let loose an immense blast of black energy. The spell hurtled towards Murtagh who was attending to one of Thorn's newest wounds. He looked up at the last minute, just in time for the spell to catch him square in the chest. It exploded on impact and he was blasted backwards in his seat. Thorn let out a roar, and fell back and away in an attempt to keep his rider from falling out of his saddle.

"Murtagh!" Eragon shouted. All he could see was Thorn falling away and an unconscious body lying on his back. Smoke from Murtagh's clothes left a trail through the air as they flew.

Eragon would have flown straight towards his half brother, but Galbatorix had already set his sights on them, and evil snarl spreading across his face. Shruikan let out a roar and took off towards them on a collision course. Eragon altered his stance on Saphira slightly, and focused on the dragon. The black mountain moving towards them grew bigger and bigger with no sign of slowing down. Eragon imagined that the king would rather blow straight into them and knock them out of the sky than continue their aerial battle. There was no way Saphira could come out victorious from a head to head collision, and Eragon figured the king was counting on that. As Shruikan's immense form was nearly on top of them, Saphira dodged to her right side. Eragon watched as the king leaned out of his saddle as they passed by. There was a whistle in the air and Saphira let out a howl that cut through Eragon's heart like a knife. Through their mental link, he could feel the pain the king's sword inflicted on her. It was like a burning stake was laid across her thigh and his anger began to build because of it.

As they put some distance between the king and his dragon, Eragon went to work healing the wound. It was deeper than it looked, which meant he had to use even more energy, but he didn't care. After making what he thought was good progress, he took a moment to catch his breath and survey how much damage was left. The wound had shrunk to half its original size, but it was still bleeding. While he was looking at the wound, he noticed it began to mend itself, slowly at first but speeding up until there was nothing but a small scar. Confused, Eragon looked over his shoulder to see Arya with her eyes closed and hand extended. She took a final breath and then looked up at him with a sly grin. They locked eyes and his anger temporarily faded, replaced by a calm fixation. If he wasn't careful, he feared he could lose himself in those deep emerald green eyes forever.

"You didn't have to do that," Eragon said.

"You're not the only one who can heal Saphira," Arya replied.

_Thanks, to both of you. Now get ready because it's my turn_, said Saphira heatedly. Eragon and Arya adjusted their stance and Saphira loosed an angry blast of fire from her mouth as she banked back towards Shruikan. Eragon's own anger came right back as his dragon's yearned for blood. She flapped her wings faster and faster till they were shooting towards Galbatorix like a blue arrow shot from a giant bow. The black dragon stayed where he was, letting Saphira do the work to close the gap. Eragon could feel his anger getting to higher levels as the fire of Saphira's anger transferred to him. She flew right up to Shruikan's roaring maw and instead of colliding with him head on, threw her wings out in front of her and shot straight up into the air above him.

Everything became clearer to Eragon as his anger pushed him to an iron focus. He watched as his view changed from staring down Shruikan, to looking straight up at the sky. The clouds were slowly gathering, fighting against the sun. Birds were gliding on updrafts, while the hot wind teased at him.

Saphira flapped her left wing turning them upside down while arcing her back. Eragon could now look up, which was down, and see Galbatorix straining his neck as he watched the sapphire dragon above his head. Saphira arched her neck until they were headed straight down towards Shruikan's hind legs, completing half of a backward summersault. The great black dragon was too big to move out of the way in time. Saphira dropped right passed his hind legs and tail, gouging his flesh with her talons as she roared her revenge. As Eragon became level with Shruikan, he swung Brisingr in a mad arc cutting deep into the beast's thigh. Arya followed suite with a stab of the deathdart letting loose her own scream of revenge. The black dragon's blood rained from the sky as his roar echoed across the city.

In the next second Eragon was far below Shruikan and Saphira was leveling out of her dive. He didn't need to look up to know Saphira's back flip was successful. The blood on his sword and the wails of the pained black dragon we confirmation enough. Saphira loosed a tongue of flame, allowing herself a small victory. Eragon couldn't help but smile.

He was about to tell her to start the climb back to Galbatorix, to press the attack, when he sensed something wrong. Something that didn't fit. He could feel the hair on his arms standing on end.

"What is it?" asked Arya.

"I'm not sure yet," he said as he began to focus. He quieted himself, trying to decipher what it was that was bothering him. He couldn't hear anything aside from the wind past his ears. He new he wasn't hurt, and he didn't see any immediate threat, so why was he so uncomfortable? He closed his eyes and focused on his surroundings, acknowledging everything around him as his consciousness extended outward. His mind had just reached Shruikan, who was still high above him, when it clicked. He didn't _hear _anything. Shruikan was screaming from the wounds they had inflicted not moments ago, and now all was silent. He slowly forced himself to look up. The massive dragon was holding his altitude high above them, seemingly perfectly fine. A chill ran down his spine.

"It's Shruikan… He's healed," Eragon slowly said. Saphira growled deep within her throat at the realization.

"Oh no…" Arya whispered.

That attack was considerably effective. Eragon could still feel the sensation of driving his sword into Shruikan's flesh, separating tendons and muscles. Saphira nearly separated his hind leg from his body. It should have stopped him completely, or at least sent him to the ground to recover. But as he looked up above him, Shruikan looked like he had just taken to wing after a long rest. Eragon could feel his hands beginning to sweat, and his heartbeat quicken. If an assault like the one they did would only temporarily wound the dragon until Galbatorix healed him, then Eragon did not know how they were going to win this battle.

"We need Murtagh and Thorn. A combined attack is the only way we stand a chance," Arya pointed out.

"I agree, but I haven't seen them since he was hit," Eragon replied.

_Never mind them, Shruikan is moving on us_, said Saphira. A quick glance upward confirmed it; Shruikan tucked in his wings and set a course directed towards them. It was like seeing a giant boulder hurled right at you, not something Eragon wanted to get used to. Saphira banked hard, working to get out of Shruikan's path. Shruikan adjusted slightly making sure to keep the fleeing dragon below him. If nothing changed, he would crash right into Saphira. Eragon couldn't let that happen.

"Saphira, turn around and get ready to move on my signal," Eragon said. She stopped and turned, but not without questioning her rider's motives. "Arya, gather your energy. When he gets close enough, we'll make our play."

"Are you sure about this?" She asked. He wasn't, but he didn't respond. It was too late to change his mind. Looking up, he saw Shruikan's massive mouth open up as he neared their position. The razor sharp teeth, each the size of daggers, lined Shruikan's vice like jaw. All of them looking like they were pointed at him, begging to taste his flesh. Eragon tried for a deep breath, an attempt to calm himself. It didn't work. He raised his arm towards the oncoming mountain, just as Arya did the same.

"Ready..." he said. Shruikan was nearly on top of them, but he had to wait just a second more…

"Now!" he yelled. Arya shot a blast of emerald green energy from her palm as Eragon shot a blue one from his. Each spell raced up at Shruikan's open mouth, while Saphira dodged hard to the side. The spells nearly hit the dragon but he twisted around, bringing Galbatorix in the path instead. The dark rider let a smile crack across his face as he swiped his hand at the spells, knocking them off and away. With too much momentum to come to an immediate stop, Shruikan dropped past them as his enormous wings unfurled. The dragon leveled out and immediately turned back towards them.

"Well at least he didn't knock us out of the sky," Eragon said feigning optimism.

_Only to have to fight them head on_, said Saphira.

"Out of the pot and into the fire," Eragon replied. Saphira aligned herself with the approaching dragon. Shruikan was coming at them more slowly than before, watching them for any more tricks. Saphira raised herself up slightly, working to maintain the higher position. Shruikan reached them, but instead of charging directly, turned and began to circle them. Galbatorix hadn't lost his grin as he sat at ease above his black dragon. The sight made Eragon's anger boil. He watched as Shruikan continued to circle, waiting for him to attack. He saw a flicker of movement from his tail, and then Shruikan was on them. The black dragon lunged out for Saphira's hind legs but she turned and swiped at his mouth. He took the hit in stride and lashed back with another bite. This one connected with her fore leg, sending Saphira yelling in pain.

Eragon could feel the throbbing through their connection, and instantly went into a rage. He yelled out and threw his sword at Shruikan. The blade cut through the air as it circled out of his hand, spinning until it sank into its target, the side of Shruikan's neck. The dragon hissed at the metal, letting go of Saphira's leg at the process. Galbatorix pointed at the sword and then back at Eragon. The blade followed command by pulling itself out of Shruikan and flying directly towards its owner.

This was not happening. He was not going to be impaled by his own sword, the sword that had become as much a part of his own body as his arm was. He focused all his attention on the incoming missile, blocking out everything else. He made his mind wrap around the entire blade, feeling every shape and curve. It was almost to his chest when he released his spell and stopped the blade in the air in front of him. For a moment, he just held it there, awed by how close he was to dying by his own weapon. Then he reached his hand around and the sword handle spun to meet it. Once again, he felt whole. Although, he couldn't help mentally berating himself for basically throwing a piece of his body. Something Brom would have slapped him for.

_Well I am glad you did_, said Saphira in response to his self-punishment. He smiled at the thought, and went to work on her leg. With the help of Arya, and some of the eldunari, Saphira's wound healed. Eragon looked up at Shruikan only to see him back in a circle pattern again. He felt like a helpless animal, waiting for death to strike the final blow. He could feel Saphira paying close attention, looking for any sign that could give away Shruikan's intentions. Galbatorix seemed completely at ease high upon Shruikan, his white sword held loosely at his side. Eragon wanted nothing more than to wipe the grin from his face, preferably with his sword.

There was a slight change in Shruikan's flight, and the dragon was upon them again. This time Saphira was ready. She flapped her wings downward hard and rose up above Shruikan. Galbatorix seemed to know what she was about to do because he raised his arm and sent his own spell at them. They did not even have time to prepare themselves. They all got hit with what felt like a canon blast of racing wind. It instantly filled Saphira's wings like the sails of ship at sea and almost knocked Eragon and Arya off her back as it lifted them higher and higher into the air. It was at this moment with Galbatorix's hand raised at them and Shruikan's full attention on Saphira, that a red blur crashed into their opposite side. Thorn knocked the black dragon off balance, and wrapped his mouth around as much of Shruikan's immense neck as he could while digging his claws into his side. Once he was within range, Murtagh lunged out with his sword at a surprised Galbatorix. His clothes were still smoking, but the fire in his eyes let Eragon know he was eager for revenge. The momentary distraction allowed Saphira a chance to close up her wings and dive back down towards the fight. The king blocked the blow from Murtagh and countered with a strike of his own directed at Murtagh's head. Murtagh blocked the powerful attack but was knocked backwards while his sword arm was thrown out at a weird angle. Galbatorix smiled and used the moment to look back up at Saphira who was closing in and raised his arm at her again. Instantly, they were hit with the familiar gust of wind, but since her wings were already tucked tightly against her body she was only held where she was in the air. She roared in anger and tried to make herself more spear-like but to no avail. Eragon cursed in frustration. Murtagh was finally back and he was suspended helplessly above the battle. Without a combined effort, the king would not be defeated. He turned his attention inward and began working on a counter spell to release them from their lofty perch.

Galbatorix turned back to Murtagh just in time to block a slash at his stomach and then another at his shoulder. Galbatorix responded with a stab at Murtagh's chest, which Murtagh barely blocked and then made a counter of his own. Eragon watched as they went back and forth, strike for strike. This all happened while Galbatorix had his other hand lifted up at Saphira and Thorn was doing his best to hang on to a writhing Shruikan. It was utter chaos, and Eragon could do nothing to help.

The sword fight raging below him went from bad to worse. Murtagh's initial fierce attack had put Galbatorix on the defensive, but now he was barely keeping the king's blade off of him. Galbatorix was frighteningly skillful, spinning his blade around faster and faster at Murtagh, wearing him out, never giving him a chance to counter strike. Eragon could feel his fear growing, knowing that while the king was besting Murtagh, he was also continuing his spell on Saphira. The fierce wind continued to keep them suspended above the fight, too far away to help. A tight knot began to form at the base of his stomach as he frantically worked on a counter spell. The fear that Murtagh would not be able to hold up much longer pushed him to find a solution.

He was deep in thought, trying to piece together a spell when all of the sudden he felt Arya's hand slide into his. It was so out of place, Eragon was shocked out of his head. He looked back at Arya and saw in her eyes a look of sad realization. It was as if she wanted to cry but was putting on a brave face for him. He couldn't move, stunned at the most beautiful and heartbreaking image he'd ever seen. With the wind blowing her raven hair around, she gave him a small smile and his hand a tight squeeze. Then, in one graceful motion, she leaned over and kissed him on his cheek and then jumped off Saphira's back, deathdart in hand.

Everything seemed to slow down to Eragon as his mouth opened in a silent scream and his eyes grew wide. He saw Shruikan twisting his neck trying to rid himself of Thorn. He saw Murtagh and Galbatorix exchanging blows, and he saw Arya. Being much smaller than Saphira, she was able to cut through the king's wind spell letting her fall towards the madness below.

Eragon watched as Murtagh swung his sword across his body at Galbatorix. Galbatorix raised his sword up and with a flick of his wrist knocked Murtagh's sword out and away from him. He then followed up with a wide arcing downward swing aimed for Murtagh's head. Murtagh didn't have enough time to bring his sword back around so he instead twisted his body to the side. Galbatorix's sword seemed to take forever to reach its target in Eragon's eyes. It struck Murtagh's shoulder first and sliced its way down his side, cutting his ribs and continuing till it left Murtagh and gradually sank into Thorn's shoulder. Murtagh screamed out in agony and Thorn howled, releasing his hold on Shruikan. All the while Arya was slowly falling through the air towards them, her hair billowing in the wind. Eragon saw Galbatorix take his gaze off Thorn and Murtagh as they dropped away and look up at where he held Eragon. His smug grin contorted into an angry snarl when he noticed Arya dropping towards his dragon's head. Arya raised the deathdart high above her with the point facing down and arched her body like a bow about to shoot an arrow. Galbatorix started to bring down the hand that was holding up Eragon and Saphira and aim it at Arya. He was to late. Arya yelled out as she landed catlike on top of Shruikan's massive head, bringing the deathdart down through the top of his skull. It sank all the way down until Arya's hands made contact with his scales.

"No!" screamed out Galbatorix. Eragon watched in horror as he released an enormous blast of energy from his extended hand, hitting her upper body directly, whipping her backwards and off of Shruikan.

"Arya!" yelled Eragon.

He could see her unconscious body tumbling through the air, heading to the ground at break-neck speeds. Saphira instantly went into a steep dive aiming for Arya after being released from Galbatorix's spell. Eragon took his eyes off Arya and saw Shruikan's trembling body give a final jerk and go limp. He began to drop through the sky with Galbatorix on his back. Saphira caught up to the dead dragon and passed them up in a flash since Shruikan's massive wings were slowing him down.

Eragon could see they were headed down to an open area that was probably a market place before the battle, but was now just filled with debris and people who were running to get away from where the great black dragon was falling. As they raced towards the ground, Eragon began to make out Arya's limp body below. The wind rushed past his ears as he tried to judge the distance between them. It wasn't good. They were gaining on her, but she was going to hit the ground before they would reach her. The knot in his stomach came back as fear began to creep in. Eragon worked on keeping it in check. He needed to focus. Arya would hit in a few seconds so he changed his plan. Eragon concentrated on gathering energy from himself, Saphira, and all the eldunari that were with them. He felt the familiar surge of power as the energy built up within him. He summoned all he could, raised his arm at Arya, and released the spell. She was about ten feet from the ground when the spell caught hold of her. Instantly her descent was slowed. The spell made the impact bearable and she kicked up a little cloud of dust where her body landed.

Saphira pulled out of the nosedive just in time and flew across the open area mere feet above the ground. She turned around and came to where Arya had landed and dropped to her feet. Eragon jumped off her back and went over to Arya, where he knelt and picked her up in his arms. He let out a sigh of relief when he realized that was still breathing, even though it was very shallow. He looked her for any injuries but she seemed to have only sustained a few cuts and scrapes from the fall, nothing too serious. Eragon's focus was snapped away when a bunch of women farther away screamed.

He looked up and saw Shruikan's giant body plummeting to the ground at full speed. Eragon bent over Arya, and Saphira wrapped a wing around them. When it crashed down in the market place, the entire ground shook with the impact, and it kicked up a giant cloud of dust and debris. Eragon slowly stood to get a better look, Shruikan's entire body was hidden within the cloud. He placed Arya back on the ground and began to look around for Murtagh and Thorn thinking they might have landed after their injuries. He spotted the pair off to his left with some elves who were working on them. From what Eragon could tell Thorn was okay, but Murtagh was in bad shape given the pool of blood at his feet. He looked back at Arya and then to the cloud of dust that concealed the king and his dead dragon, and watched as it slowly began to settle. At first only the black wing tips of Shruikan were visible above the cloud, both sticking out at odd angles. Then the dust lowered and more of the dragon became visible. The spikes along his spine became visible next and then his shoulders were shown, but the recess between his shoulder blades where the king would sit was now empty. As the dust finally settled Eragon saw Galbatorix standing next to his dragon's head, the top of the green deathdart still sticking out of his skull. His arms lay hanging by his side and his head was bowed so Eragon could only see the top of his head. In his right hand was the white sword, stained red with Murtagh and Thorn's blood. The king brought his legs together to stand at his full height and slowly raised his head. His eyes met Eragon's and seemed to drill in him as if they were piercing his soul. Eragon held his gaze as best he could. He was struck by the king's expression. There was no smug smile or glimmer in his eyes, but instead a cold hard resolve covered his face.

* * *

Looks like things are about to get interesting! Don't worry, I have the next chapter fully outlined. It should be up in about a week.


	5. Beat and Broken

Chapter 5

"Enough!" shouted the king, silencing the entire square. All eyes were instantly on him. "This has dragged on long enough. You cannot beat me, you never could, and yet you continue to fight the inevitable. And now, now my dragon is dead because of your foolishness. You will swear yourself to me, Eragon, and we will be done with this mess."

"I will never," Eragon seethed.

"You will not have a choice. This ends now, youngling," said the king. He began to stride over towards Eragon. Saphira took a menacing step forward and roared at the evil king, releasing a torrent of fire from her jaw. He raised his arm and the flames passed harmlessly on either side of him. When she cut off the fire, Galbatorix looked at her impassively.

"Saphira, it seems you have misunderstood me. This fight is between me and your rider, you will take no part in this," Galbatorix said to her.

_We will see about that_, growled Saphira.

"No, we wont. I think you have forgotten about all the eldunari I have at my disposal. I have kept them restrained, but I think it is time they had a more active role aside from giving me my strength."

Eragon felt something pass him, like a rush of wind across his mind. He looked at Saphira who suddenly cringed. He reached for her mentally and could feel the consciences of mad dragons attacking her, trying to gain control of her mind. He could sense that there were many of them, but they were scattered and chaotic. Since they could not form a collective attack, Saphira was able to hold her defenses.

Eragon was about to meld his mind with hers to help when the king said, "No Eragon. They will not kill her, but they will do just fine in keeping her subdued. I'll say it again, this fight is between you and me."

Eragon looked back at Saphira and then returned to the awaiting king. He was right, Saphira was in no immediate danger but she was too occupied to assist Eragon. He was on his own. He took a step forward when something grabbed his hand. It was Arya. She was awake. He looked at her and saw in her expression the same steely determination that he had come to know. She held his gaze and then gave him a slight nod. Eragon understood. She was there for him just as he was there for her. He was not on his own. She squeezed his hand with what little strength she had gained and then released it.

Eragon started forward again but with a renewed spirit. He looked to his right at the sides of the square at all the people watching his every move. Some of the women and children had frightened looks on their faces. The Empire soldiers had looks of disdain while others surprisingly had slight looks of hope. The Elves, Dwarves, and Urgals had Arya's same look of determination. The Varden warriors looked at him with a battle ready expression. They fought for him and would die for him without a second thought. Their loyalty heartened him. It was for them and everyone in the marketplace that he was fighting for. He was fighting for their freedom; he was fighting for their lives. He was fighting for peace in Alagaesia and the end to an evil king's rule.

He kept on forward. The king a good bit away, continued making strides towards him. Eragon looked back at Saphira and Arya. There were now some elves with them. Three of them stood next to Saphira with closed eyes, undoubtedly helping her fend of the minds of Galbatorix's crazed dragons. The other four were kneeling around Arya, each with a hand outstretched, working on healing her. The site comforted Eragon. He turned back around to face the king. They were closing in on each other. This was it, the end to a journey he started what seemed like ages ago. He was ready for it to be over.

Eragon broke out into a dead sprint. With his heightened speed and strength he covered the distance to the king in seconds. Raising his sword above his head, he jumped into the air. Eragon let out a yell as he swung down towards Galbatorix. The king got his sword up in time to block the blow. The clash of steel echoed across the market square and then they were off. Galbatorix countered with a stab at Eragon's stomach that he dodged and then followed with a slash at Galbatorix's hip. The king blocked the attack while spinning around and brought his sword across to Eragon's neck. He couldn't get his sword up in time, so he bent backwards, seconds before the king's sword would have decapitated him. He could feel the wind on his cheek as the white blade cut the air in front of his head. Eragon stumbled, then regained his balance and got back into his fighting stance.

He jumped back at the king. He feinted a slash at Galbatorix's chest and as the king lowered his hands, Eragon raised his blade towards the king's neck. Eragon's sword almost connected, but in a last minute shimmer of motion, Galbatorix's sword was up and blocking Eragon's. They stayed like that for a second, swords locked, staring at each other, when the king's face contorted into a snarl and he pushed Eragon back with such a force that he almost fell over. Just as Eragon steadied himself and looked up, the king was already coming at him. In a blur of white the king's sword was flying out at him. It was an attack like nothing Eragon had ever seen. One after another, slash after stab, Eragon was blocking and dodging constantly, barely even able to see the blade as it came after him. He was suddenly on his heels, backing away from the onslaught. All he could do was wait for the king to make a mistake, anything he could use as a way to turn the king on the defensive. A few times Eragon saw an opening but before he could expose it, the king was already attacking him again. He was just too fast for Eragon. His incredible speed made it impossible for Eragon to do anything but defend himself.

The king slashed at Eragon's shoulder, which he barely blocked, and followed with a slice at Eragon's legs. He saw the blade coming, but could not get his sword around in time. Instead, he jumped backwards to get out of the swords path. He was too slow. The tip of the sword connected with his left thigh and cut into his flesh. Eragon let out an involuntary groan. When he landed, his left leg buckled. He touched the injury and looked at the blood now on his hand. It was the first wound of their fight. He hoped it would be the last he suffered. He adjusted his grip on Brisingr and got into his crouch. His leg pained him but it was insignificant to the rush of adrenaline flowing through his body.

The king slowly began to circle him. Eragon was not going to make the first move this time. Galbatorix was much stronger than Eragon ever thought possible so he had to hope the king would become too confident and make a mistake. Galbatorix continued to circle Eragon, never taking his eyes off him. He remembered that Shruikan would project when he was about to strike, so he watched for the king to do the same. All Eragon saw was a twitch of motion, and in the next second, the king was in the air, bringing down his sword. Eragon lifted Brisingr to block the blow, and when the swords connected, the impact rattled Eragon's arm and made his knees shake. The force of that hit would have sliced right through any other sword, but Eragon's elven made blade successfully deflected the blow, but not without leaving him jarred from the impact. When Eragon looked up, the king was already bringing his sword around for a second hit. Eragon, again, barely managed to deflect the attack. His arms were starting to wear down from the constant strikes and his sword was beginning to feel heavy. The king continued to throw attack after attack at Eragon, never letting up.

Despite his growing weariness, he managed to hold Galbatorix off and found a second wind, giving him a chance to execute a few strikes of his own. He sliced and stabbed, pushing his body to its limits. Galbatorix was calm and calculating as he blocked each his attacks. Eragon urged his blade to move faster, making it become a blur of sapphire as it whistled through the air. None of the strikes found their mark, but he pressed on anyway.

Eragon swung a wide blow at his neck, but the king crouched under it and spun around. Eragon watched his sword fly through the air where the king's head used to be, and knew he had just made a terrible mistake. The king spun completely around in his crouched position, while extending his sword outward. Before Eragon could take his blade out of its trajectory, the king brought his own sword around and cut into Eragon's ribs. It felt as though a hot iron was dragged across him. He yelled out, he couldn't help it. The pain was incredible. Eragon backed away with a hand covering his side. Looking down, he saw scarlet blood seeping through his fingers. Glancing at Galbatorix, he was surprised to see him not making any motions to continue his attack. Eragon quickly took advantage of the moment and used a spell to mend his torn flesh. He felt the familiar itching sensation as tendons and muscles sowed themselves back together. The spell worked its way from the inside out. When it reached his skin, Eragon sensed a burst of movement from in front of him. He instinctively raised he sword and was met in the air by Galbatorix's blade. The king held the pose for a moment.

"That is the only time I will allow you to heal yourself. There is no reason for you to experience any more pain like that. Pledge yourself to me and end this pointless fight, Eragon. If not, you will suffer more then you can imagine. Put an end to this madness," Galbatorix said.

Eragon's arm trembled under the weight of the king. He slowly looked up and met the king's stern gaze. With an equally steely tone he simply said, "No."

The king's face hardened into a scowl and he broke away from him. He immediately went on the offensive and tried a quick stab at Eragon, but he was ready. Eragon saw the strike before it happened and was already moving to avoid it. He sidestepped and moved towards the king, while bringing his sword under the king's outstretched arms. Eragon felt his blade make contact with Galbatorix's side and slice into his flesh. The king hissed, and immediately spun out of the way to avoid further damage. It did not matter to Eragon; the damage was done. Eragon had finally gotten through the king's impossible defenses, proving that he was not invincible.

Galbatorix turned to face Eragon and he saw that his face was now contorted in anger. His calm and determined expression was gone and in its place was pure rage. Galbatorix let out a howl and charged Eragon. He swung his sword at Eragon's shoulder but Eragon blocked it and countered. The king dodged the blow and brought his sword back around. Eragon parried the attack, but Galbatorix was already raising his knee and caught Eragon in the stomach. He felt the wind forced from his lungs. He gasped for air, but none came to him. The king then hit Eragon across the face with the pommel of his sword. The force of the hit knocked him off his feet. He thought he could hear a roar from a dragon in the distance, and then he hit the dust-covered ground with a thump. Eragon laid there for a moment, taking in what just happened while gradually getting his breath back.

Slowly, he got to his hands and knees and then tried to get up when the king walked over and kicked him hard in the side. Eragon was sent rolling across the ground. He could hear some women crying out along the sides of the square and a few men yelling something. Eragon stopped himself and carefully got to his knees again. He looked up. Galbatorix was striding over to him, the same infuriated expression upon his face. Eragon was slightly off balance as he got to his feet, but held himself up. When the king got within striking distance, Eragon extended his hand toward the ground before the king's feet and loosed a spell. It hit exactly where he wanted it to, kicking up a wave a dust and debris that shot into Galbatorix's face. As the dirt cloud blinded the king, Eragon leaped out and slashed down at his shoulder. Through the dust there was a flash of white and a sword materialized in the path of Eragon's blade. Before he could retrieve his blade, Galbatorix spun his sword around Eragon's and sliced his forearm. Eragon pulled his injured arm back, but as he did, the king swung around low and caught Eragon below his knee. He groaned at the pain now throbbing from his body. Eragon struggled to bring his sword arm back up, but the king twisted around, slapping the flat of his blade across Eragon's cheek. He was sent to the dirt with lights flashing in his eyes.

Eragon caught himself on his hands and could taste fresh blood on his tongue. Determined not to give up, he pushed himself back to his feet. He swung wildly at Galbatorix, ignoring the screaming protests from his injuries. With a grunt, the king flicked Eragon's sword arm away. The king then brought his sword around with a twirl and slashed Eragon across his chest. He yelled out in agony, as his entire torso felt as if it were on fire. Galbatorix finished him off by landing a powerful kick right on top of his fresh wound. Eragon was so blinded by the pain that he did not even notice himself landing back on the dirt.

Eragon tried to tighten his grip on his sword, but found it impossible. His entire body was rebelling against him. His head wouldn't stop pounding, and he thought one of his ribs might be cracked. He struggled for a full breath of air. Slowly opening his eyes and looking at his chest wound, he realized it was not deep enough to slice any of his internal organs, but he was losing a lot of blood. The pains from it along with the cuts on his arm and leg were agonizing. He said a short spell to stop the bleeding, but he struggled to close the gash up all the way. He gave up and fought to sit up

Galbatorix walked over to him and reached down to his shirt. He grabbed a hold of Eragon's collar and lifted him off the dirt a few inches. In a flash, Galbatorix brought his other arm around and punched Eragon in the face, knocking him back to the ground. Eragon's vision went dark for a moment, the noises around him sounding distant. As his senses came back he felt the king grasp his collar again, lifting him off the ground. Again, he was struck in the face, sending him crashing back. This time he heard a crack and could feel hot blood trickling down his face. The pain seemed to block everything else. Eragon felt a strong fist grasp his collar again, but this time was completely lifted off the ground until his toes barely touched. He cracked his eyes open and saw that he was face to face with Galbatorix.

"End this now Eragon!" shouted the king, his face turning red. Eragon stared at him for a while and then managed a bloody smile.

"No, thanks," he slowly croaked out.

The king's scowl deepened and he threw Eragon to the ground. He barely managed to hang on to Brisingr as he hit the dirt. Very slowly, he sat up on his elbows and looked back at the king while spitting the blood from his mouth. Galbatorix looked beyond frustrated, but then, out of nowhere his face calmed. The sudden change unsettled Eragon. The king seemed to relax all over and even closed his eyes. Eragon was not sure if this was a trick to entice him to attack or if it was something else. Galbatorix took a deep breath and then opened his eyes and looked directly at Eragon.

All of the sudden Eragon felt as though his mind was pierced with a knife. He immediately began to block out Galbatorix's intruding consciousness, but it was difficult. Galbatorix had honed his thoughts into such needle sharp points that it was impossible for Eragon to keep him from penetrating into his mind. Eragon cringed as he felt thousands of razor blades ripping through his thoughts. He tried everything he could, but he could not stop Galbatorix. Every time Eragon tried to block the king, the razor like thoughts would slice through his defenses and force Eragon farther back. A few more seconds of this and Galbatorix would overtake his mind and simply force him to swear his loyalty.

Eragon finally decided that if he could not stop the king then he would run from him. He composed what he could of his thoughts and began to shrink away into the depths of his mind. Everything around him began to fall away. Deeper and deeper he retreated, working to put as much distance between himself and Galbatorix as he could. Before long, Eragon reached a point where he was barely aware of his surroundings, and he could no longer feel the sensations of his body, whether pain or pleasure. Still he continued until he was curled up in a single ball of thought, deep within his own mind, unreachable by the intruder.

He was so far gone that he could barely sense any surroundings within the vast empty expanse he was floating in. He could acknowledge Galbatorix's thoughts, and how they felt a world away as they tried to slice their way to him. Even the strength of the king's mind was not enough to make it across the void. Everything else around him was just dark emptiness. Eragon was content to wait out the invasion in depths of his mind, when he gradually began to notice another presence. Not far off was…something. The more he focused on it, the more he could start to make out what he was sensing. It seemed like a vast being, like an ocean waiting just around a mountain ridge. Eragon remembered the familiar feeling when he was back in the king's throne room, but he had only sensed it for a moment before he lost the contact. This time was different. He could feel its presence more than before and could sense an energy emanating from it. He realized that whatever he was feeling was immense, and seemed to go on forever.

He had just started extending himself towards the mass when Eragon felt a detaching sensation. Shifting his focus, he realized that Galbatorix was removing himself from his mind. He felt the king withdraw until he was completely free from Eragon. Eragon gradually returned from the depths of his own mind until he was back in control of his body. After carefully opening his eyes, he realized that he was on the ground curled up with his knees pressed into his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around them. He looked up at Galbatorix and saw that the king was breathing harder than normal. Trying to break Eragon must have been tougher than he had expected. Eragon sat up with effort and noticed that he was slightly trembling. He had never resisted such an attack and yet he could not stop thinking about what he almost discovered in the dark reaches of his mind.

Galbatorix collected himself. "So, you are able to resist me. Impressive. Well, Eragon, perhaps I should change tactics. You seem intent on never giving in to me. I have beaten you down and assaulted your mind and yet you still fight. Why are you doing this? Is it for your family? Your friends? Is it for all of the people who I rule over? Look at everyone around us, Eragon," he said as he gestured across the square.

"All those people, some you know well, but others you have never met before. Are you willing to die for all of them? Are each of their lives that important that you would sacrifice your own for them?"

Eragon said nothing but held the king's gaze.

"I think it would be very interesting to see if you would be willing to sacrifice one of theirs instead," said the king coldly.

Eragon stared at him, confused. He saw Galbatorix turn to the side of the marketplace where everyone was watching and extend a hand at a man standing with his family. The color instantly drained from Eragon's face. The man wore no markings of the Empire and no colors of the Varden. He was dressed in a simple robe and leather strap, and had thin hair with streaks of grey. He was an innocent man caught in the middle of a fight between two armies.

The man was dragged out away from the crowd, as if invisible cords had wrapped themselves around him. The women next to him screamed out and ran forward to his outstretched arms. She grabbed a hold of him and tried to pull him back. A few others came forward to assist, but the effort was futile. The king was too strong and they were no match for the draw of his spell. They all eventually lost their grip and were left helpless as they watched one of their own being pulled across the square to the king's outstretched hand. Eragon could not stand to see an innocent man be brought in to his fight. He struggled to his feet, forcing his body to obey his will and then extended his hand to the man. He was about to release a spell when a blast of dark energy hit him square in the chest. He was knocked off his feet and onto his back, making him gasp for air. The smell of smoke filled his lungs as his clothes singed from the spell. Eragon urged his body up and was dismayed when he saw Galbatorix's other hand pointed at him. He must have sensed what Eragon was about to do and knocked him down before he could complete the spell. Eragon's heart broke as the man finally reached Galbatorix and was caught in a firm grasp around his neck. The king was not choking him, but the man could not escape the vise like grip.

"Now, Eragon, we shall see just how noble you really are. I have here a man who is neither part of my army nor yours. You claim that you are fighting for all those throughout Alagaesia, including this man. Well, are you also willing to sacrifice an innocent life for that cause? Swear yourself to me now or I kill this man where he stands."

Eragon's mouth went dry. He was stunned. His entire journey had been to free people like the man now in front of him and yet he might be killed because of Eragon's actions. However, if he swore himself to the king, then everyone he had been fighting for, all those that had giving their lives for his cause, everything that they had done up till now would have been pointless. All those sacrifices would count for nothing.

"Well Eragon? Can you watch a man be killed knowing that you could have prevented it, but chose not to?" the king continued.

Faster than should be possible, Galbatorix released the man and then brought his hand around backwards, striking the man in the face with the back of his fist. The man whipped backwards and fell to the ground. He lay motionless for a moment and Eragon feared he might actually be dead. A tense second passed, then his arms moved, his legs shifted, and he slowly pushed himself up to his knees. The king reached down a grabbed the man by the back of his collar, hoisting him right to his feet in one fluid motion. He turned the man, whose head was hung, so his body faced Eragon.

Eragon balled his hand into a fist and punched the ground in frustration. The pain from his body was pushed aside by his anger. It was his fault this man was being tortured, and he was just watching it happen. He couldn't take it. He felt like he was going to be sick. This man had done nothing to deserve this and yet it was happening. Eragon looked up at the man, but he was still looking down. Eragon could feel tears forming in his eyes. It wasn't right, no one should have to suffer because of him. He looked at Galbatorix and then back at the man. He had to do it. He would willingly serve the king if it meant sparing this man's life. He may be a dragon rider, but he couldn't put his life above another's.

Eragon opened his mouth to speak when the man finally looked up. It was such a simple motion and yet it held such power that Eragon's voice literally caught in his throat. The man looked directly at him with caring blue eyes, like a father to a son. His nose was broken and blood was streaked down his face, but his eyes were unwavering. While continuing to hold his gaze, the man moved his head just slightly to the side and then back. The message sent a chill down Eragon's spine. The man understood what was at stake. He didn't fight back, or cry out for help. Instead, he stayed where he was and embraced his ill-gotten fate. Eragon thought he was one of the bravest men he had ever seen.

"Will you pledge yourself to me and spare this innocent man's life?" asked the king. Eragon hesitated, cradled in the man's soft gaze, unable to bring forth his voice.

"Answer me!" yelled the king.

Eragon clenched his fist and looked at the king. With tears in his eyes he said, "No."

The man nodded his head slightly as Eragon gave his verdict and then closed his eyes. Eragon saw the king's face harden in disgust and then he let go of the man. For a second, Eragon thought he was going to release him. Then the king brought his sword around with a flourish, and drove it straight into the man's chest. Eragon gasped. He heard a woman scream out from the side of the square. The man's eyes opened wide and looked down at the sword that was now imbedded through his chest. As the man dropped to his knees, Galbatorix pulled the sword free with a yank. He fell forward to the ground and lay there motionless. Eragon kept waiting for him to move, to look up at him with those gentle blue eyes, but he never did. Eragon looked back at the king, anger welling up inside him.

"That man is dead because of you Eragon. How many more are you willing to send to their deaths for your cause? How many more lives will it take for you to submit to me? It does not have to be this way," said the king.

"I will kill you," said Eragon, shaking with anger. "I swear it… I will kill you."

The king cracked a smile at him. It infuriated him even more.

"Perhaps I am going about this all wrong. You may be willingly to sacrifice your life, and even strangers around you, to resist me, but what about those most dear to you?"

His words hit Eragon like a hammer. The king looked past Eragon at something behind him while raising his hand.

"Come here, Elf," he said through a twisted grin.

Eragon immediately spun around to see Arya being caught up in the king's spell and pulled towards them. She had regained some of her old strength, but was still too weak to fight the king's incredible might. The Elves that were around her immediately stood and fired spells at the king. As the blasts neared him, he raised his other arm and knocked the spells away as if they were nothing. They fired again at him and after knocking their spells away, Galbatorix fired back. Each of the Elves was hit with a blast of energy and was knocked away. Arya shouted out, but the king continued pulling her towards him.

Eragon would not let Galbatorix harm Arya. He tried to stand up, but his weakened body would not cooperate. He fought against it until he was on his two weary feet. He looked at the king and let all the anger and rage that he was feeling boil over. He reached into his mind and found the reserve of energy and allowed it to spread throughout him. He gathered what amount he could, and released his spell just as Arya was passing him. It wrapped around her just as the king's had done. He held on until Arya's motion was slowed to a stop. Eragon strained against the strength of the king, but he was determined to bring Arya back. He could not let her be taken by the king. She slowly turned and looked at him, her green eyes soft in the afternoon light.

"Eragon," She simply whispered.

Then he heard the king laugh.

"How very heroic of you, useless, but heroic," said the king.

Eragon felt a slight tug against his hold on Arya, and then in a flash of movement she was pulled through the air towards Galbatorix's awaiting hand as if a hook had been attached at her waist. Eragon's spell was severed and he was pulled forward to his knees from the force of Galbatorix's spell. Eragon looked up and saw Galbatorix catch Arya as she flew towards him. His heart dropped, he had failed her.

"Now Eragon, answer me this. Can you send Arya to her death just as you did the last man?" said the king.

Eragon again fought angrily against his body to stand up. As he stood, the king swung his arm across and Eragon was hit with a spell. The force sent him down to his knees.

"Enough fooling around Eragon, bow to me as your king and Arya's life will be spared," said the king.

"Eragon don't-"

Arya was cut off as Galbatorix struck her across the face, knocking her to the ground. She caught herself on her hands and knees, but Eragon could tell she was in pain.

"Don't let her suffer. End her torture before it's too late," said the king.

He turned and kicked Arya on her side before she had gathered her balance to stand. She was knocked onto the ground but stopped herself from rolling over. The king walked over to her and grabbed the back of her hair, pulling her upward. This time she let out a scream. It was a horrible sound that clutched at Eragon's heart. The king lifted her to her feet and then in one motion he pulled her towards him and brought his knee to her stomach. She coughed and spat out blood. Then the king pushed her back and struck her across the face again. Arya's head whipped to the side and she dropped to the ground.

Eragon couldn't contain himself. The site of Arya being hurt sent him over the edge. He yelled out and with a sudden surge of energy, got to his feet, and ran at the king. He could feel his wounds cracking with fresh blood and his lungs struggling for a full breath, but he did not care. He was not going to let the king hurt Arya, the girl he cared for most, anymore. Eragon charged the king, sword above his head. He swung down with everything he had, but the king simply lifted his sword arm and with a flick of his wrist, blocked Eragon's blow. With a twist of his body, the king brought his elbow crashing into the side of Eragon's head. Then he followed it up by letting go of Arya and driving his open palm into Eragon's chest while releasing a spell. The impact felt like getting hit by a boulder and sent him flying backwards through the air, almost to where he was before he charged. He landed hard, dismayed at the ease with which Galbatorix defeated him. He worked to push himself back up, even though he felt more broken ribs. He managed to get up to his knees, glaring at the king.

"You will swear yourself to me right now, Eragon," seethed the king.

He then reached over and grabbed Arya around the throat and lifted her up into the air. She struggled against his choking grip but could not escape. Eragon could see the pain in her eyes at the crushing hold the king had on her as she fought for air.

"Let her go!" Eragon shouted.

"Swear yourself to me!" Galbatorix yelled back.

Eragon could not bear to see it. Arya, the girl he had grown to care for and trust all throughout his long journey was dying before his eyes. She was in danger and Eragon could do nothing about it. The thought was unbearable. Every fiber of his being fought to reject it. His mind just would not accept the reality of what was happening.

Arya was trying to pull the king's hand off of her, but he only stood his ground while glaring at Eragon. Her face was red from being starved of air and her efforts to escape were weak. The truth slowly began to sink into Eragon. Arya would not last much longer…

* * *

A/N: Talk about rock bottom huh? Let me know what yall thought. Don't worry, I've started on the next chapter, and it will definitely make up for this cliff hanger.


	6. Triumph

**A/N:** Again, I am sorry for the long delay. Lets just say that this chapter was difficult to get where I wanted. As a warning, I will say prepare yourself because this one gets crazy.

* * *

Chapter 6

"Hurry Eragon, make your decision," said the king.

Eragon watched in terror as Arya's feet lost their will to kick and her grip on the king's arm loosened. Galbatorix's hand around her throat remained clenched and unyielding. Eragon felt helpless and it nearly made him sick.

It wasn't just Arya that was slipping away from him but everything in Alagaesia that he fought for. He was watching Galbatorix slowly squeeze the life out of all he cared for. He wanted to give in, to make it stop. But if he surrendered, he knew she would never forgive him. But if he let her die, Eragon was not sure he would be able to endure. It wasn't fair. It was not supposed to be this way.

Arya was now making soft raspy sounds as her lunges desperately tried to get air. Her lips were a slight shade of blue, and her face was red. Her hands dropped limp to her sides, and her feet no longer moved. But it was her eyes, those entrancing emeralds that Eragon could not look away from. Once wild with defiance, they began to close, as the life within her slipped away.

He shut his eyes. Seeing her choked to death was destroying him. The pain was too much. His stomach felt fiery, and his head wanted to explode.

"Give in, Eragon," Galbatorix whispered ominously.

He looked back up and saw Arya's eyes were closed. All he could hear were the sounds of small, raspy attempts at breathing.

"Stop," Eragon murmured, shaking with anguish.

Eragon hunched over in frustration and anger, clenching his fists until his nails drew blood from his hands. Arya had been through it all with him. She couldn't leave him, not now, not like this. He cared for her too much.

_No, no, NO!_

He could not take it any longer; the pain was too great. He threw his head back and yelled out to the world around him. He yelled to whatever forces were responsible for a tyrant like Galbatorix coming to power. He yelled out for all those who had suffered, all who had been lost, and he yelled for Arya.

He allowed his anger, grief, and all other feelings tearing at him to overwhelm his senses, to envelope him. His emotions swarmed over him and he retreated deep into his mind. He shot past all his memories, seeing each one as a clip of a life he once knew, and pressed on.

His raging emotions forced him far into the darkest parts of his consciousness until he again came across the mysterious infinite mass he discovered before. Through his anguish he felt like it was beckoning him, so he moved towards it. As he got closer to the mass, he encountered an incredible resistance, like a massive barrier. However, his tormented state compelled him to press on. As he pushed against the barrier, he began to feel an energy emanating through the other side. It increased in intensity as he neared the mass.

_Amazing_.

It was an energy greater than anything he had ever felt before, greater than even the king. The truly remarkable part was that he was feeling this power through the barrier, still some distance away from the mass.

Eragon continued to push himself against the barrier, but it soon became impossible to make any more progress. He pressed as hard as he could, but it just wouldn't give way. He broke down. He was so close, so close to breaking through and reaching the other side. He felt with every part of his being that he needed to get to that mass, that it would end all of his suffering. His thoughts went to Arya, and the pain of losing her. No, he could not let her die at the hands of Galbatorix. He could not let that tyrant hurt anyone else. He could not bear the thought of any more pain. He let himself go. He released all the emotions and feelings that were swarming around him and threw everything he had at the barrier. He pushed on it until he could feel it budging, and then he pushed even harder. At last, with a final surge, it broke away and he was through.

Immediately, Eragon was swept away on a tidal wave of energy. It was as if he had been dropped in the middle of the ocean during a colossal storm. He could feel the chaotic power of the energy churning around him, pulling him this way and that. He concentrated on the chaos and allowed his being to become a part of the madness. Instantly, the energy poured through him as if he was a vessel through which it operated. He slowly began to feel a sense of control over the chaotic torrents and focused to make them swirl about him. He was aware that if he slipped, he would be swept away by its immense power and lost forever, but he held strong. Soon, it was no longer pandemonium, but instead a controlled storm that raced around him, as if he was standing in the eye of a swirling vortex. The energy was now a part of him and he had complete control. If he wanted, he could calm the raging storm into tranquil waters, but he didn't. Instead, he fed the fury and made it swirl faster and stronger, amplified by the rage he felt at Galbatorix. He pushed the storm harder and harder until it was on the very edge of overpowering him, and then he compelled it upwards through his consciousness.

It immediately shot up through the path he had taken and flooded the rest of his mind. He held onto the tidal wave of power and rode it back to his body where it engulfed him from his head down to his toes. His eyes snapped open when he came screaming back to full consciousness and a tremor of energy was sent reverberating through the square. His vision focused in and locked on Galbatorix. Instantly, his fury boiled over.

"Let her GO!" he roared at the king.

Without mouthing a spell or even raising his hand, energy released from within Eragon and raced outwards. The king's eyes grew large and then he was shot backwards, like he had been hit by a giant cannon, dropping Arya. Eragon quickly reached out with his arm, and compelled the power to catch her. She was instantly suspended in the air, a few feet above the ground. Eragon could hear her gasping full breaths of air. Slowly, Eragon lowered his arm, while across from him Arya was placed on the ground. She was rubbing her neck, still taking big breaths of air, but she was transfixed on him. Her expression was a combination of shock and awe.

Eragon slowly got up and immediately felt how all of the pains he experienced before were gone. He closed his eyes and took a long deep breath of warm air. He focused his attention on his body and could sense that all of his cuts and bruises were healed. Even the large gash across his chest was gone and his broken ribs were mended. He felt hot from the energy that churned inside of him.

As he was taking everything in, he felt a presence brush across his thoughts.

_Saphira_.

_Little one_, she responded. Through their mental connection, he realized that his energy had also affected her. She seemed to positively vibrate with power just as he did. He mentally watched as she easily swept away the minds of the wild dragons that had been attacking her as if they were mere flies. After making sure they were restrained, she focused her attention back on him.

_What is this power you have unleashed, Eragon? _She asked him_. I feel like I could soar to the top of the Beors with one flap of my wings._

_I don't know, _he told her_. It feels like it's going to tear me apart from the inside out, yet I've never felt better._

_Tread carefully little one, _she cautioned_._

He opened his eyes and looked down at his body. It seemed to glow with the energy racing through him. He turned his gaze out to where Galbatorix had landed on the ground and was amazed that he had done that without a second thought. He never imagined he would have that kind of power.

He looked back down and located his sword a few feet to his left and walked over to it. As soon as his hands wrapped around the handle, the blue blade grew brighter and even seemed to pulse with energy.

He turned and walked towards Arya. He reached her in a moment and knelt down beside her. She was kneeling but looked up as he put a hand on her shoulder. Her face was bloodied and bruises had already formed on her neck, but her eyes locked on his and he could see the fire that was still within her. Eragon thought that he would never get used to how fierce she was. She tried to say something to him but only a horse sound escaped her. He realized that her throat was damaged. Putting his hand over her neck, he released the energy needed to heal her. When he was finished, he helped her to her feet.

She stared strongly into his eyes and he got the feeling that she was trying to decipher him. He smiled at the thought and put his hand on her cheek. Her eyes closed at his gentle touch and she put her hand around his. There was no need for words, he knew she was thankful and she knew he was relieved. He pulled back his hand and looked back into her eyes, fascinated at how the deep green seemed to dance in the light. Then, he looked past her at Galbatorix getting back to his feet and all at once the anger came flooding back to him. He looked back at Arya and she understood without him having to say a word. She nodded and he watched as she headed back to where Saphira and some of the Elves were standing.

He heard him before he saw him. Quick footsteps headed in his direction. He turned just in time to see Galbatorix leap into the air and raise his sword high above his head. Eragon raised his sword to block as the king descended upon him. Eragon was waiting for a mighty blow but was surprised at how weak the king's attack felt. He disengaged from Galbatorix's blade and then parried another strike as the king went on the offensive. Eragon deflected each strike with ease. It was as if Galbatorix was moving in slow motion. Galbatorix would swing his blade around, and Brisingr would materialize in its path. The king would spin his blade around for another strike, and Eragon's arm would move faster, bringing Brisingr flying around to block. Eragon seemed to watch himself from a distance, as if in a dream, as he blocked every single one of Galbatorix's attacks in a blur of motion. He was amazed to see how fast he moved, and even more amazed at how effortlessly it felt. As Eragon continued to repel each blow, the king's expression turned from a scowl, to frustration, to flat out infuriation. He attacked Eragon harder and harder, backing him up, but never getting past his sword. Galbatorix swung at his chest and Brisingr appeared right in his path. The king spun around a slashed at Eragon's thigh. With a flash of blue, Eragon brought his blade around and blocked the king. Galbatorix shouted and tried to hack at his shoulder. Eragon deflected the blow casually before the blade got anywhere close to him. The king continued his mad attack, slashing wildly in an attempt to break through Eragon's defenses.

Finally, Eragon planted his feet and stopped his backward progression. He blocked a swing at his ribs, and then a stab at his chest. Galbatorix brought his blade around for a third hit, but Eragon was ready. He swung Brisingr upward at the king's sword, knocking it out of the way and exposing Galbatorix. Eragon then spun around, slicing the king across his chest. He felt Brisingr bite into flesh and could hear the king gasp from the pain. Galbatorix backed up, his hand instinctively covering up the wound. Muttering a quick spell, the king healed himself and then looked at Eragon with despise.

"I do not know what has happened to you, but do not mistake this newfound strength as your saving grace," said Galbatorix. "You will never defeat me, Eragon. I have spent years casting wards that prevent me from suffering a mortal wound."

"I'd like to test that," Eragon said sternly.

Galbatorix brought his sword in front of him, waiting for Eragon's next move. He didn't have to wait long. Eragon stabbed out quickly towards his chest, which the king parried as expected. Eragon then swung in a wide but swift arc at Galbatorix's shoulder. The king brought his sword up to block, but as soon as steel touch steel, Eragon quickly spun around bringing Brisingr towards the king's side in a flash of blue. Galbatorix hadn't even moved his sword from the first block, when Eragon's blade bit into his flesh. He released a hiss and backed up, but Eragon pressed him. In a blur barely noticeable, he swung at Galbatorix's non-sword arm, cutting into his shoulder. Grimacing, the king countered with a swing at Eragon's ribs. Eragon knocked the sword past him, forcing Galbatorix to spin around. Eragon then swiftly slashed upwards, tearing at the king's back muscles. Galbatorix let out a roar of pain and dropped to his knees.

Stepping back and looking at the wound, Eragon realized the king was right. His slash should have opened up the king's back, but he seemed to have only sustained a shallow cut.

The king stood to his full height and turned to face Eragon.

"You see Eragon," Galbatorix said through a labored breath, "your attacks cannot kill me."

"Then I will just try harder," Eragon replied.

"This little game you're playing at is over!" Galbatorix yelled.

With a snarl, he stabbed out at Eragon's throat. Sidestepping quicker than the king's blade, Eragon dodged the assault. Then, fueled by the power within him, Eragon pressed his own attack. With blinding speed, Eragon attacked Galbatorix with three successive strikes. The first directed at the king's neck was blocked, but the second was too quick. Eragon connected with the king's hip. He swiftly followed with a long slash from Galbatorix's shoulder down to his other hip. Galbatorix released a howl and staggered. Eragon thought he could hear people cheer in the background, but quickly dismissed the notion.

The king twirled his sword around and went for Eragon's head. Eragon swung his own sword at the king's incoming one. He hit the king's blade just as it was nearing him with such power that it was knocked right out of Galbatorix's hand. The king watched in shock as his sword flipped through the air, landing blade first into the ground behind him.

Eragon gave him no time to recover. He allowed the power churning within him to swell and he hit Galbatorix in the chest with an open palm while releasing the energy. A flash of blue erupted from Eragon's hand with a loud crack and the king was blasted through the air. He hit the ground hard, skidding to a stop after leaving a trail of smoke in his wake.

After a moment he pushed himself up to his hands and knees while slowly looking up at Eragon. He had a look of fiery malice in his eyes and the blood from his mouth gave him a menacing appearance. Galbatorix spat blood on the ground and then pointed at his sword, making it fly towards his open palm. Then, in one fluid motion, Galbatorix stood up, threw his arm out towards Eragon, and yelled out while releasing an enormous blast of dark energy. Eragon planted his feet firmly on the ground and squared up his shoulders at the oncoming blast. He whipped his hand across his body when the blast reached him, knocking it sideways into an abandoned shop. The shop exploded in flames, sending pieces of wood and debris everywhere. As the people in the square screamed and attempted to shield themselves, Eragon reached out with his mind and caught all the shrapnel in midair. He released his hold letting all the pieces of debris fall harmlessly to the ground.

When he looked back at the king, his eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat. The king was leaning forward with an evil grin split across his face, and racing ahead of him was his gleaming white sword flipping through the air towards Eragon.

_It was a distraction. _

The sword was mere feet away when Eragon snapped out of his trance and let instinct take over. He took a step to his right and twisted his body so that he was sideways just as the sword sliced through the air where he had been. Eragon could see all the tiny details along the white blade as it flew by him, every contour of the metal and curve of the handle. He could feel the air in front of him reverberate as the white blade sliced through it. Then the sword continued on and away from him. He began to let out the breath that he was unknowingly holding when something caught his eye. Arya was looking off to her side at the building that had just exploded and was using a spell to calm the angry flames, completely oblivious to the oncoming sword. Eragon's eyes grew large with fear and he yelled out to her. She turned to look back at him just as the sword flipped around once more and sunk deep into her stomach.

The world around him seemed to fall away. The background faded into a blur and the sounds around him became muffled. All he could focus on was Arya's shocked expression. She coughed up some blood and with shaky hands reached at the sword handle now sticking out of her mid section. She drew a quick, sharp breath and dropped to her knees. The Elves nearby rushed over to her and carefully laid her on the ground. She was placed on her side facing Eragon and her eyes slowly found his. Eragon couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't even think. All that was going on in his head was a profound sense of disbelief. Her soft eyes stayed on his and he could see a single tear slide down her cheek. Then slowly they lost their focus and her lids came to a close. Eragon watched the Elves frantically chant with their arms outstretched over her body. They began to slowly remove the sword with magic, but he could no longer focus on any one of them. All he could see was Arya's face, peaceful and beautiful, with a single tear streak catching a slight glint from the sun. She could be sleeping if he didn't know any better. And then his eyes shifted and he saw the puddle of blood forming around her stomach and his entire world shattered.

His vision went red and a loud pounding filled his ears. His hands trembled and his breathing quickened. His entire body appeared to be on the verge of exploding and yet, through it all he was able to bring into focus a single thought. Galbatorix.

He turned back to the evil king and at the mere sight of him with his arms folded and a grin on his face, he lost it. He forced the power swarming within him into a chaotic frenzy. It began surging throughout him with unchecked ferocity. He gripped his sword tighter and the handle grew white hot, while blue flames erupted along the blade. Little rocks and pebbles were lifted off the ground and into the air around him as his body shook with infuriated power.

The energy raging within him compelled him to take action, so he started towards the king in a dead sprint. He covered the distance in a second and when he reached Galbatorix, Eragon slammed his shoulder into him with all the force he could. Eragon could feel bones cracking from the impact and the king went sailing. Eragon didn't waste any time. He took off after the king, coming up on him just as he was getting back to his feet. Using the momentum from his sprint, Eragon slid on his knees past Galbatorix while slashing at his legs with Brisingr. Because of the wards, his blade didn't slice through the king's legs, but instead flipped him forward, where he landed face down in the dirt.

Cursing, Galbatorix pushed himself up to his knees. He looked at Eragon while wiping dirt from his mouth.

"You're wasting your time."

Eragon roared and slammed his knee into the king's head. When Galbatorix pushed himself off the ground, Eragon kicked him over. Gasping for air from the wind knocked out of him, the king brought himself up to his knees. Then, Eragon swung Brisingr. The blade sliced through the air leaving a fiery blur in its wake as it raced for the king's exposed neck. Galbatorix didn't even have time to react. Brisingr hit the king's neck with enough force to decapitate him. However, as soon as Eragon felt it bite into flesh, unseen forces stopped the blade. The energy from the strike knocked Galbatorix to the ground but only an open cut remained from the attack.

Galbatorix groaned but slowly got back up. Turning back to Eragon, he spat blood at his feet.

"You fool," the king said with spite. "You will never end me. I am far superior to you, even with your new power."

Eragon could feel his hands shaking in anger.

"The war is over Eragon, you lost." The king then looked past him and whispered, "Don't send anymore to their graves."

Focusing his rage, Eragon cocked his fist back and punched Galbatorix directly in the sternum. The torrents of power within him caused his strike to break the king's ribs and launched him in the air. Before he could hit the ground, Eragon reached out with his arm and used the energy to suspend him in midair. Galbatorix worked at keeping his expression impassive, but Eragon could sense him struggling against his hold.

"This isn't over," Eragon said slowly, working to keep his fury in check. He opened his outstretched hand, causing Galbatorix's body to open up as well. "You have to pay for what you've done." Eragon's voice was getting louder now, while his hand opened fully. Galbatorix was now completely stretched out as if his limbs were all being pulled in different directions. The strain on his face was plainly visible as he struggled from being pulled apart. "Do you understand?" Eragon shouted. "This… isn't… over!"

Furiously, Eragon whipped his arm sideways and sent the king speeding into the shop that had exploded. He crashed forcefully into the rubble, breaking the remaining support beams and sending up a cloud of debris. Before he could recover, Eragon used another spell to grab hold of Galbatorix from afar and ripped the king through the air back to him, as if he was tied to a rope. As the king flew towards Eragon, he pulled his arm back and then shot it forward releasing an enormous sapphire blast of energy. The thunder-clap from the spell echoed throughout the market square. It hit the king, exploding in midair. Galbatorix was sent straight to the ground with parts of his clothes singed and smoking.

Eragon let out a deep breath as he watched the king's body lie smoldering on the ground. After a few tense moments of silence, he heard the king let out a long groan and slowly clenched and unclench his fists. Eragon watched as Galbatorix then warily rolled over to his hands and knees and slowly pushed his charred body back up to its full height. He took a few wheezing breaths, looked Eragon in the eye, and then smiled.

The storm inside of Eragon was pushed to a dangerous level. He closed his eyes, unable to bear the sight of the man before him. He focused on his body, and how it was shaking, barely holding back a raging inferno of power. He focused on his fury and anger and how they seemed to grow in intensity. He felt the air around him heating up, and he could sense more objects being lifted off the ground just from being near him. He urged the energy inside him on, pushing it into a hurricane of power swirling through him with deadly force. Then his thoughts suddenly went to Arya. How she was lying on the ground not too far from where he was standing, yet how she may never be with him again. How her beautiful green eyes may never again captivate him, or how her soothing voice may never again tease his ears. And how that single tear fell from her eye right before she left him…

His eyes snapped open and honed in on the king. He was watching Eragon with the same cracked grin he had after his sword sunk into Arya. It was just the trigger he needed. He took off at the king. His mind was focused on Galbatorix and Galbatorix only. Everything else no longer existed.

As he neared the king, Galbatorix only smiled more. He knew the many spells he had woven around himself over the years to protect him were impossible to break. Eragon knew this too but he didn't care. He charged him anyway. The power within him was building up to an unstable level and Eragon could feel it taking over his senses. He was no longer in control of his body, but merely guided the cyclone of power in a direction. Eragon felt like he was holding back the sea, and knew if he didn't let go soon, it would kill him. When he reached the king, he brought the flaming sword back behind him and he could feel a single word beginning to form on his lips. He brought his sword around in a forward lunge at Galbatorix while releasing all the energy contained in him at once. It felt as though a dam had broken as the energy rushed to his arm and into his sword as it raced towards Galbatorix's chest. The surge of power in the blade allowed it to break through every ward protecting the king, and then finally penetrated his chest. The king's eyes widened in shock and his breath caught in his throat.

"No," Galbatorix managed to croak out in disbelief as his eyes filled with fear.

The word continued to take shape and Eragon could feel the sound of his voice welling up from deep within him. As the sword blade sank the rest of the way into the king's chest, Eragon's voice rang out across the market square as he yelled, "BRISINGR!"

The spell gave form to the raw energy in the sword making it glow brighter and brighter until it was white hot and nearly blinding. Galbatorix let out a wild scream filled with terror. As if the sword could no longer contain the energy, a massive explosion erupted from the blade, engulfing Galbatorix in a giant sapphire inferno. The blast sent a shockwave throughout the square, knocking people down, but did nothing to Eragon. He stayed where he was, rooted in a perfect lunge stance with his sword extended forward in the firestorm.

When the flames finally burned up, Eragon took a step back out of his stance, bringing his smoking sword back to his side. The ground in front of him was charred black and the taste of iron was on his tongue. The edges of his clothes were singed from the inferno. All around him, the air was dotted with little bits of ash with blue embers glowing on them. It seemed out of place and oddly beautiful the way the embers blinked and twinkled as they fell softly to the ground. It reminded Eragon of the first snow of the winter season. He stuck a hand out and watched a piece land on it, burn for a moment, and then go out. Ironic how the mighty king could be reduced to something so picturesque.

Eragon looked up and noticed that his vision was slightly blurry. A profound silence hung over the square as the people around him stared, not making any moves. He knew that this was the moment they had all dreamed about, the one they had fought for so long, but they remained silent, waiting to see what he would do. He barely noticed them.

_Arya_.

It seemed to take all his will power, but he slowly turned around and looked back at where she was lying. The sword was now out of her stomach and laying on the ground in front of her but her eyes were still closed. He felt a knot form in his chest. He finally defeated Galbatorix, a feat said to be impossible, and yet, the girl lying peacefully on the ground ahead of him, with blood covering her stomach, made it a hollow victory. His throat seemed to constrict as he neared her and tears started to well up in his eyes. The elves that were around her backed up to give him space. Saphira looked at him with a big eye and he could tell without words that her heart ached with his. He knelt down next to Arya and became entranced at how stunning she was. The way her raven hair shimmered and flowed around her and her skin seemed so soft. Her eyelashes, long and curving, accented by her high cheekbones, and that single line from her last tear running across her face. By extending his mind, he could sense her heart still beating. It was little consolation. She was fighting, but losing the battle. Each beat came a little bit later then the one before it. One glance at the elves around her, and he understood that she was beyond saving.

The energy that once raged throughout him was gone, and, try as he might, he could not get it to return. He sat there helplessly, unable to save Arya as death's cold grip took her away from him.

Somewhere behind him one of the elves started to sing. It was a soft melody that seemed to give shape to the sadness he was feeling. The elves near the first one began to pick up the song adding their own harmonies to the ballot. Then, one by one, all the elves in the square sang out with their enchanting voices for their fallen family member. The song rose and fell seeming to take on a life of its own, a being that was filled with sadness and grief.

Eragon could not bear it anymore. He collapsed beside her and wept freely. The anguish and torment he felt seemed to fill his entire body until he was sure he would lose himself to it forever. Then, from somewhere deep within him, he felt a slight glow of energy, energy that was not his but a part of the ocean he had released upon Galbatorix. It was like a gleam of light in a dark cave. He reached for it desperately, grabbing a hold and pulling more of it to him. Soon he could feel the energy returning to him, not in a furious surge like before, but softer and slower, carefully spreading throughout his body while exuding a warm sensation that he never thought he could feel again. The power flowed into him pushing all the darkness away and filling him with a sense of hope that seemed to permeate his entire being.

He looked back at Arya lying quietly in death's embrace and knew that this was not meant to be. That she was not supposed to leave him like this. He sat up and spread both his hands over her. He allowed the energy to build on itself and then pushed it into his arms and down to his fingers. He could feel the warmth leaving him and entering Arya's cold body. It spread throughout her, giving her a delicate glow somehow making her even more beautiful. The energy continued to flow through him from a source deep within his mind. He closed his eyes in concentration and could feel Arya's entire body, the large amount of blood she had lost, the wounds the sword inflicted upon her internal organs, and her heart which was barely beating. He focused all his attention on her heart, guiding the energy into it. It soaked it up like a sponge, but remained unchanged. He poured even more energy into it, determined not to give up on her. Despite the amount that he was giving her, her heart continued to slow, its beats barely audible and too far apart.

Eragon was starting to lose hope. He was beginning to think that no amount of energy could bring her back to him when all of the sudden her heart gave a strong little thump. To Eragon it was like the pound of a war drum. His spirits soared and he focused with a renewed intensity. Very slowly, beat by beat, her heart came back, taking in everything he had to offer. Her heart began to pump fresh blood throughout her and he could feel her body coming alive again. When he felt confident her heart would sustain itself, he shifted his focus on the wounds from the sword. He cast spells to heal them from the inside out and let the energy flowing into her take care of it. With the last part of her organs flowing together and becoming whole again, she took in a breath. It was weak, but it was the most amazing thing Eragon had ever heard. Several of the Elves around him gasped when they noticed it too. He mended the skin around her stomach completing her healing process and severed the flow of energy to her.

Immediately, the energy receded far back into the depths of his mind from wherever it came from. He made a last attempt at holding on to it, but it was no use. It was long gone. Although a little disheartened, he had a small hope that someday he would feel that power once more.

He stayed where he was, watching Arya's chest rise and fall when her eyes slowly began to open. He leaned over and brushed a piece of her dark hair out of her face and watched as her eyes slowly took in her surroundings. She looked around until she saw him and then she tried to focus in. She looked confused at first, but then she smiled. The sight sent butterflies fluttering around his stomach. She carefully sat up and then Eragon helped her to her feet. She gazed at him, enchanting him with her beauty. He was faintly aware that it was still dead silent around the market square, but he couldn't look away from Arya. She took a step forward, and then let out a joyous, singing laugh as she wrapped her arms around him in a strong embrace. Eragon couldn't help himself, he broke out in laughter too as he hugged her back.

At that moment, the world seemed to explode all around him. Elves sang out and everyone cheered. He could hear the crowds letting go all the emotions they had been holding back. Saphira released a roar to which Thorn answered from the side of the square and they both loosed giant blasts of fire into the air. Eragon looked around and saw people hugging each other while crying for joy. Others were dancing around with the Elves as they sang their celebration songs. Green grass and small flowers sprouted from the magic of their music across the square. The Varden soldiers were yelling out with their fists in the air, while the Dwarves and Urgals beat their chests.

Eragon was watching two little girls twirl each other around when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see that it was Murtagh, still beat up but smiling from ear to ear. He clasped Eragon's shoulder and started to laugh. Walking up behind him was Nasuada with tears in her eyes. She hugged Eragon and began to cry and laugh at the same time. Eragon held her for a moment and then pulled away giving her a chance to catch her breath. He felt a warm breath on the back of his neck and then Saphira rested her head on his shoulder. Eragon reached up and rubbed her cheek as she hummed her content. He then looked out over the square and saw that everyone was looking at him, some with tears in their eyes, others just smiling. He felt something stir inside of him at the sight, something that he never thought he would ever be able to feel again. In that single moment, surrounded by the ones he loved and the ones he had fought for, he felt truly happy. It was such a simple feeling that seemed to capture the essence of his proudest moment, and let him fully know that this was how it was meant to be.

* * *

**A/N: **Whaaaaaaaat! What the heck was that power? Where did it come from?

I hope you all enjoyed how I imagined the real death of our evil king. To me, this was what our main hero and villian needed, not the death by feelings in the book. Now originally I had planned to end my fic here, which is why the title is death of a king, and that last paragraph leaves you with a warm fuzzy feeling.

HOWEVER, as hard as it was I did enjoy writing this so I will be continuing on and writing about how everyone's stories wrap up. Plus, I am working on the next chapter now in which we will have a conversation with our favorite herbalist and maybe make some sense of what the hell Eragon did

As always leave me some comments, I really want to know what you guys thought of this chapter. Definitely the hardest yet most rewarding so far.


End file.
